Plug in Baby
by brilliantmemories
Summary: Timelines collide when the Bleeding Effect gets out of control, leaving everyone with tough decisions to make. The Assassins are being torn apart from the inside out, and Abstergo hasn't even reared their ugly heads yet... *Slash* *AU* *Strong Language*
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Desmond shot up, panting heavily.

That dream had felt so real that Desmond could have sworn he felt the cool summer's breeze on Ezio's face, as the man pushed himself off the edge of _Santa Maria dei Frari_. With the wind howling past him, he dove down into the pile of golden hay, emerging while making sure no one saw him. How could that have felt so real...? How could he remember the texture of the fabric that Leonardo had been wearing that night as they shared a glass of wine, Ezio watching Leonardo's progress with plenty of interest in his invention? He could almost taste the bitter sweet red liquid in his mouth, recalling the tremendous hug Leonardo gave him once he knocked on the door. The friendly exchanged Italian words rang in his ears as he tried to collect himself. It had been all too real...

"Sorry to barge in on you like this, but it's getting late and we were..." Desmond looked up to see Rebecca sitting at the edge of his pathetic excuse of a bed, eyebrow raised. Her black hair was falling across her face, brown eyes filled with a subtle curiosity. He immediately noticed that he was sitting up crouched, in a defensive position. He wiped his hand across his face, instantly feeling the clamminess of his shaking hands. Desmond sighed and pulled his hand back away.

"Hey, you okay?" She looked worried and Desmond knew he didn't need to trouble her any further. He knew that they all had heavy burdens on their back, and he didn't exactly need to add to that overwhelming amount.

"Yeah, yeah. All good... Weird dreams, that's all," he flashed a quick smile, hoping she wouldn't see through him. It worked though as he slowly sat up, trying to loosen up.

"Alright. I'll let you get ready. See you in a few," and with a quick, pleasant smile, she walked away. Desmond took in a deep breath, looking down at his feet. It had to be a dream – what else could it be? The Bleeding Effect only happened when he was awake, as he had seen in the warehouse with Lucy. And as she had said, the hallucinations lasted less than thirty seconds, so he was in the clear. It was still striking him as bizarre, how they could transfer Ezio's abilities to him without a single glitch. Silently, he thanked them for getting out of Abstergo – or else he could have turned out like the forsaken subject sixteen. Slowly, he slid off the edge of the bed, pleased when he felt _his _sneakers and the hard wood flooring.

With a small glance at Lucy, he made his way down the steps, taking time not to upset the giant in the corner of the room. Although his attempt was to no avail.

"Ah! Good of you to join us," the voice called out, causing Desmond to roll his eyes. Couldn't the man just keep his trap shut whenever Desmond was up and out? Or did he always have to make a witty comment that Desmond didn't care for? He tried to tune him out as he looked over at Lucy, trying to meet her eyes to ask for help.

"Sorry, long night," he muttered, replying because he knew if he didn't say anything, Shaun would be on him faster than a wolf on a suddenly exposed rabbit.

"What a professional, professional approach!"

"Leave him alone," Rebecca interjected, tossing Shaun a dirty look over her shoulder. Desmond had to smile a tiny bit – he liked Rebecca's spunk and the fact she wasn't dead after_ seven_ whole years with the guy. But of course, this didn't shut him up.

"Well, you'll forgive me if I want to get some actual work done. Hmm, _madness_, isn't it?" He laughed sarcastically, returning the look right back his colleague. Rebecca sneered and turned around, typing furiously away at her Baby's control panel.

"Shaun! Please, that's enough," Lucy snapped, standing out her seat with a swift grace. Desmond thanked her internally, and made a mental note to do it aloud some other day.

"Alright!" Shaun replied with his hands up in a mock defeat. It just didn't click with Desmond how Lucy could tame the beast, yet no one else could. Although, Desmond assumed Shaun drew the line of obeying Lucy at the simple commend of fetching a glass of water, or some other menial task Shaun believed he could spend his time better on.

* * *

"Ready, Desmond?" Rebecca asked cheerily, ignoring Shaun's palpable distaste like Shaun himself would ignore Desmond on a good day.

"Uh... Yeah." Desmond mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to break free of his dreams of Ezio and enter the real world- only to dive headfirst back into his unsettling subconscious in a few moments. He made his way over to the Animus and collapsed into it with a sigh. No one told him that being a science project would take so much energy.

"Desmond," Lucy had made her way over to his side at the Animus. She looked down at him with concern, her blue eyes full of anxiety. "Are you sure you're okay?" She whispered.

Desmond felt the concern radiating from her, but he couldn't bear to stall their project anymore. However much he hated being a guinea pig, he hated Abstergo and the Templars more. Fighting off a little post-Animus sickness was nothing compared to what he would inflict on Warren Vidic once given the chance- and that chance would never come unless he got in the god forsaken machine.

"I'm fine, Lucy. Just tired." Desmond mustered up the most convincing smile he could.

Lucy's breathless laugh was one of relief.

"I'm glad," She smiled. "I know this is difficult, but it means so much to Shaun and Rebecca- and me." She touched his arm lightly before turning away and settling behind her desk again.

Desmond heard an obnoxiously loud sigh from across the room.

"Can we get _on _with this, please?" Shaun huffed, not happy in the slightest. "I mean, I know little boo boos need kissing, but if we stop, drop, and roll every time a butterfly lands on Desmond's sleeve, we're going to be kissing boo boos in an apocalyptic wasteland created by Warren Vidic and his merry men."

Desmond rolled his eyes.

"Why would Vidic want to rule an apocalyptic wasteland? Hell, the world is a steaming pile of shit- I'm surprised he wants to rule it at all."

"That's what the Apple is for, you ignorant child. If I can read between your ever so subtle lines, you're saying that humanity is full of toddlers who can't tie their own shoelaces. Well, don't shit rainbows or anything, but I agree with you. Humanity is a gelatinous mass of eyeballs and dick-waving contests. Fun stuff, huh?

But, your little mind can handle only so much at once, evidently. Warren Vidic will not be the one "running the world" as you said so eloquently. He's just a pawn- Well, to be fair, a knight. (Yes, I note the irony.) He doesn't do the grunt work, and he's allowed to work with someone as _important _as you-" Shaun's voice was dripping heavily with sarcasm at this point. "-but he's still only upper-middle class in the gated community that is Abstergo. His house is near the mansion, but you can only get a good view of the inside with binoculars."

"Well, it would only make sense that he tries to work his way into that mansion. Kiss a few asses, sell a few people out. Vidic doesn't seem like a puppet - he knows what he's doing. He probably has a plan to get to into the mansion." Desmond responded, playing along with Shaun's lame metaphor. He failed to notice the surprised look that Lucy gave Rebecca, as the girls witnessed an _almost _civilized conversation between the two who were usually bickering like an old married couple.

"You know him better than I do," Shaun reminded Desmond, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It wouldn't surprise me, though- in corporations like that, the top spot is always a coveted one. I wouldn't be surprised if their leader had hits in the double digits placed on him. Of course, said hits would not be completed by assassins, but by assassin wanna bees, the _hitmen_. Ugh, hit men, with their leather gloves and silenced weapons. Their trench coats and dark sunglasses. No subtlety, no substance. How I _hate _hit men. From their wonky fedoras to their shiny black-"

"Shaun!" Rebecca said his name sharply, effectively putting an end to his rant. "Sorry guys," She said, turning to Lucy and Desmond. "Shaun has this odd issue with hit men. I mean, we're all on the same side of the fence, you know? No matter what Shaun says about hit men, they at least take the notice off the real threats- us. When we kill, no one knows. When they kill, it's headline national news. Think about it this way- we are the valedictorians of the graduating class. The hit men all finished at the bottom of the class, the muscle heads who find slapping each other's asses with a towel funny. Yeah, sure, they may have attended a few classes during the year, and hell, maybe they even listened to a few lessons- but they still failed the exam, and they still suck at applying their skills to the real world. Who says the smart ones never get ahead?" She finished with a smirk, brown eyes sparkling.

Desmond shook his head, grinning in spite of himself. Here they were, hiding from people who wanted to take over the world, and possibly the only hope against said diabolical people, and yet they were discussing hit men with metaphors- in earnest, no less.

"Okay, hate to break up the friendship circle, but we've really got to get going." Lucy informed the group from behind her desk, typing away at her computer.

"Buzz kill," Rebecca muttered while she entered a few things into the Animus. After a few tweaks, she opened her arms with a flourish. "All systems are go, captain."

"Yes, ma'am." Desmond mumbled with a sloppy salute, before climbing into the slightly glowing contraption.

Rebecca keyed in a few more codes, and Desmond sunk into the deepest part of his sub conscious.

_Arrows whizzed past Ezio's head as he ducked and swerved, trying to escape the rooftop guard he had cockily ignored just a few moments previous. _

_"Bastardo!" The guard yelled, his voice carrying on the wind, reaching Ezio's ears loud and clear. Ezio smiled to himself as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the shingles clattering under his heavy sprint. An arrow flew past his ear, ruffling his hood. Lowering his head, he pushed himself faster, harder. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was dry. He was nearing the canal- he could jump off the building, and hide under the water's surface until the guard gave up, swore, and returned to his post. _

_With just one more building to clear before he was home free, Ezio felt his foot strike an upturned shingle he hadn't noticed. He twisted awkwardly, trying to regain his balance. He stumbled for a few steps, until, right before the end of the roof, he righted himself, and was leaping through the air to the other side of the alley. _

_With a quick "thank you" to whoever was looking out for him today, he clamoured onto the last roof before the canal, perhaps a little less gracefully than he was used to doing. He sprinted across, hearing his pursuer's cries growing fainter and fainter. With a triumphant grin, Ezio turned around right at the edge of the roof, to smirk at the guard who had started to slow down a few buildings ago. Evidently, however, the guard had stopped to regain the accuracy of his bow that he lost during a sprint. The arrow flew from his bow, piercing the air. Ezio had no time to respond, no time to just walk off the back of the building into the water. His smirk was wiped clean away as the arrow burrowed into his shoulder, right between his chest plate and spaulders. Blood spurted from the wound, the arrow comfortable situated in his muscle._

_"_Cazzo...!"_ He hissed, gritting his teeth. The guard was now sprinting full out, trying to reach his injured prey._

_Bracing himself, Ezio yanked the arrow out of his shoulder, feeling the blood soak his robes. "You _porco figa_!" He yelled at the guard, putting pressure on his wound. _

_As the guard gained on him, Ezio knew he had to get to either a doctor or Leonardo's - now. With a venomous "_fotitti!" _he jumped off the building, into the canal._

Desmond woke with a shout, feeling something embedded in his shoulder.

"Ah! Fuck!" He cried out, bringing his arm to see what had happened.

"Desmond! What happened?" Rebecca exclaimed, right at his side.

"Something's in my shoulder! Can't you see it?" Desmond exclaimed, groaning, feeling the blood pouring through his fingers.

Lucy, Rebecca and Shaun exchanged wide eyed glances, while Desmond continued to writhe in the chair.

"Desmond, there's nothing in your shoulder." Lucy said quietly over his extremely loud yelling.

"What?" Desmond exclaimed, squeezing his eyes shut. "There's something in my fucking shoulder!"

Shaun was across the room now, staring at Desmond intently.

"No there's not." Shaun informed him, and leaned forward to grab Desmond's hand away from his "wound".

"What the fuck are you doing?" Desmond asked, opening his eyes to stare at Shaun with shocked eyes.

"_Look_," Shaun commanded him, nodding toward his shoulder, which was indeed, blood and wound free.

Desmond glanced toward his shoulder, and his mouth fell open.

"What the _fuck_?

* * *

**A/N:** Alright, so this is brilliantmemories talkin' here folks. This is gonna be a collaberation with _googleit6_, another fantastic writer and my best friend. We've been playing around with this idea for a while and we thought, heck, before I move - let's get a collab done! So... we kind of started it and who knows where it'll go? Well, we kind of will. Sort of. Maybe. Yes! Just a little... Anyways! We'll be chipping away at this and we wanted to know what you guys thought of it. So, review! Review, review and review!

Heyo! This is googleit6 talking. The lovely _brilliantmemories _and I have, as you can see, been working on a fun little collab. We've certainly had some entertaining conversations about the plot of this story, and, if I do say so myself, some pretty damn funny shennanigans will be had. Just to let you know, there's a line break where the authors switch. Can you guess what part _brilliantmemories _wrote? Cause I'm not telling! I kid, I kid. She wrote the first part, and I wrote the second.

Hope you guys enjoy our collab!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Rebecca was trying to compose herself as Desmond sat up slowly, trying to come back to his senses.

"_My Baby!_ What have you done to her?" Rebecca was frenetic as she immediately tried to reboot the machine, which had shut down in the middle of their session, just after Ezio had been pierced with an arrow. She continuously pressed at the green start button, almost crying out in frustration when her control panel remained a sickening black.

"Pressing it repeatedly isn't going to help, Rebecca," Shaun spoke nonchalantly as he watched, arms crossed over his chest, as Lucy talked comfortingly to Desmond. Rebecca's eyes were wide with panic as she stopped momentarily, but then continued her frantic button mashing.

"_It won't turn on!"_ She wailed, feeling as if she could punch a hole through the wall. With her vexation growing to a dangerous level, Shaun disregarded Desmond and Lucy, walked over and stood near the furious woman.

"Y'know, maybe if you had spent a bit more time fine tuning it, it wouldn't be so mediocre and it wouldn't fail on us," Shaun sighed as he pulled off his glasses, brandishing a cloth to wipe the somewhat dirtied lens. As he wiped them clean gradually, he barely dodged a book thrown by Rebecca.

"Shut up! You know _nothing_ about Baby! She's reliable... strong... Nothing like the other Animus piece of crap those Templars create!" Rebecca shouted at him, dropping down to her knees and opened the access panel. With a quick flick of her wrist, she was inside all the wires and Shaun suddenly lost interest in poking fun at her. Shaun knew his limits – he didn't want to bug her so much she'd electrocute herself in all the dangerous wires if she got too irritated. Instead, Shaun fixed his eyes on Desmond, who seemed to have gotten a hold of himself.

"I'm telling you, Lucy... It felt like it was there and I saw it with my own two eyes," Desmond looked up at her, only to be met with a slight concern.

"I know, Desmond – but there's nothing there. No blood, no wound, no nothing. You're fine. You just... need a break. Perhaps we should test your skills in the warehouse, hm?" She smiled, extending her small hand. Desmond took it, feeling his cheeks flush slightly as she helped him off the chair, trying to steady him as he rocked slightly.

"Woah – okay. That's... really dizzy," Desmond groaned, clutching his head as he let go of Lucy's hand hesitantly. He went to sit back down on the Animus chair but missed completely, landing flat on his arse against the hardwood. Shaun instantly burst out with laughter, causing Rebecca to pull out of her jungle of wires, only to bang her head on her laptop desk. She instantly let out a high pitched whine, rubbing her head while trying to hold a weak smile. Lucy glanced over at her for a moment, before she turned back to Desmond to help him – slowly, this time. Rebecca got up herself, brushing off her front with a quick sweep of her hands.

"Des, you alright?" Lucy asked for about the millionth time, steadying him by holding his arm. The assassin nodded slowly, eyes scanning the room for any more archers hiding, arrows with his name written on their lethal points.

"Yeah, just fine... Give me a moment," Desmond shook his head slightly, trying to rid of the sudden pounding headache he had received. A sudden nausea broke out and he felt his hands going clammy, a spontaneous cold chill ran down his spine as he met Shaun's eye.

"Sober up, Desmond. You probably had too much wine from Leonardo's beforehand," he grinned, rolling his eyes dramatically as the historian made his way back to his desk, which was cluttered with various paper works on Subject Sixteen and the riddles they had been uncovering. He sat down and picked them back up, flipping absentmindedly through the pages. The pieces were scattered, unconnected, like an unfinished puzzle. He looked at one riddle, than the next and still – they weren't linking up in his mind, which was a surprise. And what was with that "Truth" video that had small, barely a second long, clips scattered with the riddles? From what Lucy told him, Subject Sixteen seemed like a nut; a loose screw that needed fixing. But from the messages left behind, how all the messages were encrypted in complex computer data – the man seemed more like a genius.

"Shaun, I think you need a break from all that," a sudden soft voice came out from over the historian's shoulder, not fazing him the slightest bit.

"And why's that, Lucy?" Shaun replied in a monotone, staring at the image on the paper in front of him. How could have Houdini had the Apple in his possession? Ghandi was understandable, as were the men at Franklin Roosevelt's meeting – but what significance did the magician have with an item of such power? Suddenly, the picture of the famous man was snatched out of his hand and he had to wheel around to face Lucy, trying to hold his sternest expression. "Give that back to me – I need to analyze it."

"We'll look at these later, when we have them all. There's no use in you frying your brain over answers that are absolutely impossible to find at the moment. The time will come, Shaun, don't stress over these, okay?" Lucy sighed, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Shaun huffed, adjusting his glasses as he snatched the photo back, trying to not let his agitation show. He presumed that Desmond had disappeared down to the warehouse, anxiously waiting Lucy's appearance to join him. Shaun turned back around and set the photo on his desk, subtly comparing it with the others spread out on the smooth surface. Queen Elizabeth I, Emperor Napoleon I, and George Washington; how exactly did they all fit into this fucked up equation?

"_Shaun," _Lucy persisted, her lips pressed tightly together as she watched for him to tear his gaze away.

"Lucy, I don't see what the bloody hell else I could be doing. We can't waste time. It's important-"

"-doubly so these days. Yes, Shaun, I've heard it a hundred times. Now, I need you to spar with Desmond to see how his abilities are coming along," she flashed her sweetest smile, trying to tip the tables the slightest in her favour.

"Why _me?_ Can't you or Rebecca do it?" Shaun gave an exasperated sigh as he narrowed his eyes at the woman in front of him.

"Do you want to try and tear Rebecca away from her Animus? I'd like to see you try, cynical attitude and all," she laughed, clasping a friendly hand on his shoulder. He merely shrugged her off and stood up, leaving the scattered papers on his desk.

"And what about you?" He raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling a large dread tumble in his stomach. He had better things to do with his time – and those did not include babysitting a novice assassin.

"I'm reviewing some of the footage from Abstergo – I feel like Altair needs a second look over. Just in case we missed anything we can connect with Ezio," she walked back to her desk, where Shaun followed, trying to put off going down to see Desmond in the warehouse.

"Why can't I do that?" He knew he sounded pathetically close to whining, but _anything_ was better than spending time with that idiot.

"Because I know all about the information, after all, I was there when it was all being collected," she smirked, sitting down in her comfortable chair. Shaun suppressed a heavy sigh, trying not to sound any more immature than he felt like he was being and kicked himself in the ass – metaphorically – and made his way down to the warehouse.

* * *

Shaun had never actually babysat anyone in his life, but he figured that this was the closest he was going to get. Unfortunately, he wasn't paid anything except a snarky comment from Desmond or a roll of the eyes from Lucy or Rebecca.

_Why did you decide to get into this line of work again? Saving the world? Is the world really worth having to spend even an hour with the unintelligent form of life that is Desmond Miles? _

Shaun shook his head in resignation as he entered the warehouse. He trudged down the stairs much like a young boy would make his way to the time out table after being reprimanded by his grade school teacher. Shaun could hear the novice's shoes slapping the cement floor. _That bleeding effect seems to be taking its sweet time_, Shaun thought to himself. _Desmond will never be able to assassinate anyone when he sounds like a bloody elephant._

"Do you want to try stepping on that concrete a little bit harder?" Shaun called out sarcastically as he came around a pile of stacked crates, following the echoes of shoes on cement. Once he saw what was behind the crates, however, he stopped short, his mouth falling open. Stupidly, he pulled his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirt, thinking he must be seeing things. All of his hours of staring at a computer screen must have strained his eyes. He could _not _be looking at what he thought he was. Maybe the bleeding effect was somehow affecting him as well. Slowly, Shaun brought his glasses back to his face, after rubbing his eyes with his fists, trying to fix this scene in front of him. Once everything came into sharper focus behind his glasses, Shaun realized he had not been seeing things.

Desmond Miles really was doing the front crawl in mid air.

He was walking smoothly, back and forth across the concrete. His arms were wind-milling around his head, and he would lift one of his legs as if he were kicking in the water with every step. His face was blank. He wasn't laughing, as if it were a joke. He wasn't serious, as if his mind had finally snapped. He was just staring straight ahead of him. His gaze was hollow, as if he wasn't even present- as if something else was controlling his actions.

"Uh… Desmond…" Shaun said, extending a hand awkwardly, as if he meant to stop the novice mid-stroke. "Desmond, can you hear me?"

No reply. Desmond continued to "swim" in a small circle, looking absolutely ridiculous.

Shaun had no idea what to do. He _could _go get Rebecca or Lucy, but something held him here. Something told him that he should keep this to himself for now. Lucy would just worry, and Rebecca was already frantic enough about her Animus malfunctioning- she didn't need to know that the human attachment to her Baby was malfunctioning, too.

All of a sudden, Desmond sucked in a huge breath, gasping and coughing and wheezing like he had just been revived after being submerged under water for too long. He started flailing, and his eyes bulged. His hands were waving and slapping at imaginary visions around him. His eyes were closed, and the previous look of complete apathy was wiped off his face in exchange for a much more animated expression- extreme agony.

"_La mia spalla!" _Desmond shouted, and Shaun immediately noticed two things: First, Desmond was speaking Italian. Second, he was speaking Italian _well_. Only four syllables had been uttered, and yet Shaun, the historian, (Who also enjoyed learning languages on the side; seeing people react to an Italian with a British accent was too good a chance to pass up.) could tell that this speech was bona fide Italian.

When in the hell had Desmond learned Italian? Yes, he had roots in Italy with Ezio, but in the past few generations, Desmond's ancestors had lived in America. He had no real connection to Italy, except for Ezio. It couldn't be the Bleeding Effect; the Animus translated the majority of Italian to English to make things _easier_. They didn't want Desmond to learn Italian; they wanted him to become an _assassin_. There was no way that Desmond learned perfect Italian from the Animus, and still wasn't ready to become an assassin like Ezio. They had programmed Baby and her Bleeding Effect to affect the specific skill set of Desmond's, so that he could be the most help possible when and if a confrontation with the Templars ever occurred. There was _no way _that Desmond had learned Italian before he had learned Ezio's skills.

Suddenly, what Desmond had shouted finally resonated with Shaun, who had been too shocked at first to realize what heavy complications that simple, short sentence carried.

"_La mia spalla!"_

_My shoulder_.

* * *

**A/N: **_brilliantmemories:_ Hey guys! Just wanted to say we'll try to update every Friday and that I wrote the first bit, then _googleit6_'s bit is followed after the break. Hope you enjoyed, because the fun's just barely started. (:

_Googleit6:_ Hi everyone! _Brilliantmemories_ pretty much said it all, and we're going to the movies and don't want to be late, so I can't say much more, except to enjoy this chapter, and be sure to use lots and lots of imagery to imagine Desmond swimming in mid air. ^_^ We hope you found that part as funny as we did, because we found it pretty damn funny.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Shaun looked at the scene in front of him.

Desmond looked like a complete and utter nutcase, who needed a check up at the nearest mental hospital. But then the historian suddenly had a flashback to the Animus, and how it had shut down in the middle of Desmond's memory. He recalled that Desmond had woken up shouting like a little girl with her knees slightly scraped, that his shoulder had been wounded. Though, this had to be the minimal results of the Bleeding Effect at just the beginning of it all. Although, the fear in Desmond's eyes hinted that Shaun should have been a bit more concerned.

"Hey, Desmond, you alright?" He walked a little closer, to hear the man muttering multiple syllables in clear Italian, still unaware of his surroundings. "Desmond." Shaun tried again, his voice a little firmer. Once again, Desmond failed to coherently respond but for a moment, Shaun thought the babbling almost-assassin was talking to him.

"_Dottore, si può risolvere questo problema?" __Doctor, can you fix this?_

After running the line through his head a few times, Shaun knew what Desmond was asking and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. "Desmond, I'm not a doctor and there's nothing to fix. Now stop being a baby and get down to the warehouse, we need to see if the Bleeding Effect has kicked in – well, other than this nonsense, which would be no use to the Templars," Shaun rolled his eyes, watching Desmond slowly look over to him, with an expression as if he had never seen another human being. "We could use you for a decoy though, put you and your arm flailing skills to use..." Shaun trailed off with an amused grin as he adjusted his glasses.

Instead of coming back with something semi-humorous, Desmond looked back at his shoulder and continued to mutter in Italian while he was in apparent pain. He even grasped at the air in front of his shoulder, earning another deep throated groan as he tried to pry out the "arrow" himself.

"Desmond, snap out of it, you bloody nutter. You're looking absolutely mad, now quit it," Shaun sneered and walked over to him, placing a hand on the so called "wounded" shoulder. Slowly, Desmond looked right at him, staring him directly in the eyes. Before he could say anything else, Shaun flicked his wrist and smacked Desmond against the back of the head.

"Desmond, for fuck's sake, the joke isn't funny anymore!" Desmond gasped and grasped at Shaun's arm, squeezing tighter than Shaun thought the younger man could. "What a drama queen..." Shaun mumbled as he felt the pressure loosen gradually.

"What just... happened?" Desmond asked quizzically, looking at Shaun.

"You played an awful joke. Trying to scare me with the Bleeding Effect gone bad." Shaun grinned, jerking away from Desmond's eagle like grip. Desmond slowly let his arm fall to his side and he stepped away, still confused as ever.

"That's weird 'cause I don't remember," Desmond frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Bemused, Shaun turned his back on him and began to platform. He heard Desmond follow after him, footsteps clattering noisily on the metal stairs as they made their way to the concrete flooring of the warehouse. For a second, Shaun was worried. Though, only for a second.

"I won't mention your little... "joke" to Lucy, in fear that she'll take it too far and slow down our process. It's not like you've put us far enough behind anyways," Shaun sneered and turned back around, grinning as he tensed himself into the fighting position. Though, there was a little tugging sensation at his stomach, telling him that the whole situation he witnessed wasn't a joke. He ignored it and focused on Desmond walking towards him.

"But the Animus wasn't my-"

"Yes it was, Desmond... because if you were emotionally strong enough to handle the Animus, it wouldn't have broken down on us. It's your fault, because you're weak, and that's hopefully, what we're going to fix. Possibly replace your weakness with Ezio's strength. For crying out loud, if we had Ezio here, things would be a lot easier," Shaun laughed and extended his hand, beckoning Desmond to commence their training.

With a sigh, Desmond turned back to him and rummaged through his mind for the way Ezio had been fighting. Instantly, he jumped out and threw a fist forward, earning a block from the defending historian. Shaun grinned and quickly grabbed Desmond's wrist, pulling him inwards for a punch from his free hand. Trying to move in time, Desmond kicked his feet against Shaun's thighs, leaving a thick, dusty footprint on his black pants, and pushed himself back, just barely missing the incoming fist as he fell on his back. He instantly regretted the move.

Within seconds, Shaun was down on him, straddling him painfully with his hips and finally connected his fist with Desmond's cheek. Struggling out of his tight hold, Desmond tried to knee him in the back but failed, as his legs were being held down by Shaun's ass. Bucking his hips, Desmond fought to toss the older man off but he only failed as Shaun pinned down both of his wrists, leaning over top of him. A light bulb went off in Desmond's head; a way to escape the trap.

"This looks... kind of gay, doesn't it? Are you gonna kiss me now?" Desmond smirked and leaned in slightly, much to Shaun's dismay. He rolled himself off Desmond and brought himself up into a crouch, scowling.

"You dirty prick," Shaun hissed, his brown eyes filled with annoyance. "That was cheap!" Desmond stumbled and got up as quick as he could, a smug smirk clear on his face.

"You didn't have to move."

"I don't swing _your_ way, _sorry_," Shaun snapped back, being cautious as he began to circle the young assassin.

"Really? Because it damn well seems that you are," Desmond laughed, on his toes, ready for the oncoming attack. But Shaun stopped in his tracks, lips turned down in a tight frown.

"And what gives you that impression?" Desmond grinned; he had been waiting to do this.

"Because, y'know Shaun, your dreams of me must be pretty entertaining... You're quite loud when you sleep talk," Desmond grinned, knowing that this would easily ruffle the historian's feathers. Shaun couldn't exactly tell when Desmond was lying, considering the cockiness of the younger, more immature man.

"You bloody twat! That can't be true, you're not worth dreaming about!" Shaun shouted and finally lunged for Desmond, who jumped out of the way at the last second and continued his jumps backwards, as Shaun continued to rush him. Before Desmond could evade and counter Shaun's attack, he felt the air get pushed out of his lungs as Shaun kneed him harshly in the stomach, and then elbowed his shoulder downwards before finishing him off with another knee to the face. Desmond fell to the ground, a groaning mess as he clutched his bleeding nose.

"What the fuck was that for?" Desmond shouted, propping himself up on his elbows. Everywhere that Shaun had hit hurt like hell, as if he had been pierced by an arrow.

"That was training, Desmond. That Bleeding Effect better kick in soon or else you're going to be covered in bruises with multiple broken bones. I don't go easy just because you're the descendant of two great Assassins – neither of which you seem to fight like."

* * *

"Well, excuse me, Mr. I-can-take-out-anyone-and-everyone. You know, I've only been strapped into the Animus for a few days." Desmond said hotly, rubbing his nose, which was already purple and swelling.

"Feels like a lifetime," Shaun muttered, turning his back on Desmond, ready to head back upstairs.

Shaun was at the foot of the stairs, when he turned around to make sure Desmond was following him- not that he cared, exactly. He just needed to keep the novice on a tight leash. Lucy wouldn't appreciate it if Desmond ended up dead just because Shaun had left him alone for two seconds. It was like a toddler being left with a fork next to an electrical socket. You were just asking for a disaster.

"Desmond!" Shaun barked, annoyed to see his sparring partner still sprawled on the ground. "Let's go! I have things to do."

Shuffling pathetically to his feet, Shaun couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy under all his annoyance for Desmond. Really, he had gone through a lot. Between getting kidnapped by Abstergo, harvested for memories he never knew he had, and being forced to relive painful memories that were actually his own, relating to his upbringing as an assassin. All within a few weeks as well.

Though, Shaun was no stranger to life changing at the drop of a hat. Since he had been saved by Rebecca, all those years ago, his life had changed drastically. He had gone from being known as a conspiracy theory nut, to completely disappearing off the public radar. He had started doing work with meaning, with purpose. He was part of the good fight, and he had never looked back on his previous life, had never regretted it. Rebecca had given him a choice when she offered him a place with the Assassins. He had grabbed it eagerly, like a drowning man would grab for one, last, desperate gasp of oxygen.

Desmond, though, hadn't had a choice. He was merely a victim of circumstance. He probably hadn't even known what kind of genes he had, what kind of life his ancestors had led. Being thrown into the deep end of a pool with no water wings, Desmond had been floundering. It had been Lucy who had finally thrown him a lifeline, but Shaun wasn't sure how secure that rope was. Abstergo was constantly biting at the rope, threatening to take Desmond under, and never let him resurface.

Human life isn't all equal. Shaun knew that anyone in their stronghold would give their life for Desmond in heartbeat, because _he _was the important one. Yes, they were all needed up to a point, and Desmond probably couldn't do it alone, but if Desmond died, the memories died with him. No second chances. No loosing synchronization, only to be reprogrammed back into the memory. If Desmond died, there was no other way to say it: They were fucked. More than Abstergo, even, who had multiple resources compared to the pitiful assassins, who were seen by Abstergo as more of mosquitoes on their juicy human flesh than equals. An annoyance is what they were. Something easily dealt with, but persistent and bothersome none the less.

Pity stung Shaun sharply, as he watched Desmond shuffle towards him, nursing his swollen nose. Maybe he shouldn't have mangled the face. That seemed to be the only thing the poor guy had going for him, especially if he was trying to win over someone as smart as Lucy.

Not wanting to let Desmond know exactly how much he actually felt bad for him, Shaun said, as curtly as possible:

"You should get some ice on that. Your face won't be able to fit under the visor of the Animus if your nose keeps swelling."

Shaun watched as Desmond sighed in agitation- his shoulders drooped visibly.

"Shaun… Seriously? You just beat me to a pulp, and now you're cracking jokes?" Desmond's voice was a little bit nasally because of all the swelling. It sounded like he had a head cold.

Shaun smiled icily.

"I was being serious, Desmond. You really should put ice on that. I was also being semi-serious about the Animus thing."

"That's probably the closest I'll ever get to an apology from you, isn't it?" Desmond asked, still holding his nose. "Well, I guess you won't get much of an apology from me, either."

Shaun looked puzzled.

"What are you talking about?" He asked. "If it's about the Animus malfunctioning, then you should talk to Rebecca. She's going to be-" And that's when Desmond punched Shaun square in the face. It made a satisfying crunch, and Desmond would have killed to get that in slow mo. Shaun shouted out in surprise, blood dripping from _his _nose, which might even be more swollen than Desmond's later on. His glasses had been shattered, and now dangled from one ear.

"Sorry I mangled your face." Desmond said flatly, and pushed past Shaun, making him stumble a bit. "Maybe that Bleeding Affect is working after all," He tossed over his shoulder, quickly climbing the stairs two at a time.

Shaun watched Desmond climb the stairs, and turn down the hallway to the apartment. He knew he'd be hearing Lucy's shouting at him in a few minutes, so he took a moment to nurse his nose, and catch his breath. All the pity that had previously made its home in the part of Shaun's mind labelled 'Desmond' was gone, replaced once again by annoyance, and, he would never admit it to anyone else, but a grudging respect.

Annoyance took up most of the room, though.

Suddenly, Shaun heard Lucy's voice. It didn't sound very happy.

"Shaun!" She yelled from the apartment, making him cringe. Shaun couldn't imagine how loud her voice was if he had been standing right next to her, because it was really, really loud all the way down in the warehouse. "Get your ass in here, now! Why the _hell _did you beat him up, you idiot?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Lucy." Shaun called back. "I'll be there in a moment."

With a sigh, he started climbing the stairs.

He didn't get very far, though, as Lucy stormed in at the door to the hallway. She was pissed, and Shaun hated seeing Lucy mad. It kind of scared him, though he would never let her or Rebecca know that. They would never let him live it down.

"Shaun! I can't believe you would do that! He hasn't'- what the fuck? Your face looks worse than Desmond's! What the hell happened down there?" Lucy's blue eyes were like chips of ice, cold and calculating. And ready to jump him if he even told the slightest fib.

Shaun sighed, and shook his head in resignation. The movement made his glasses fall off, which had already been hanging precariously on the edge of his right ear.

"We were sparring, Lucy. I believe it was _you _who asked me to babysit?" Shaun asked venomously, trying his hardest not to squint and look like an idiot.

Lucy rolled her eyes.

"You know you aren't supposed to actually hurt each other, right? You were just supposed to see how the Bleeding Affect was coming along." Shaun could see Lucy softening, could see her chalk it all up to testosterone and boyish immaturity.

"Trust me. The Bleeding Affect is coming along just fine," Shaun informed her, rubbing his nose, which was still sporadically spurting blood. How in the hell had Desmond hit that hard? Shaun had felt it in his _teeth_, for Christ's sake.

"Well, he certainly did a number on your face." Lucy observed. Shaun could have sworn he saw a smile playing at the edge of her lips as she touched his nose.

"Ow."

Lucy laughed, obviously pleased.

"Don't be such a baby. It's about time someone punched you in the face. You were practically _asking _for it. Rebecca will just be disappointed it couldn't have been her."

Shaun rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, I need some ice for this. It's going to swell like a croissant rises in the oven."

Lucy snorted. "You are such a stereotype." She informed him, snickering. "Croissants, really?"

Shaun took a deep breath.

"I happen to like croissants." He informed her.

And Shaun walked past her with as much dignity as possible, leaving her to her own devices.

His nose really hurt.

* * *

_brilliantmemories: OKAY! So, we finally got it uploaded. I know, I know it took a while but that was because we were both away (even though I still had my laptop and internet) and, well, whenever I uploaded it into the document manager, it would just block together. So I just said, "screw it," after deblocking it for a bit and went in the pool. Or watched 27 Dresses. Either one. And that movie was awful, by the way. So finally, lovely googleit6 deblocked it and yaay we're at her house uploading it now. Oh the joy! Anyways, so I hope you guys like this chapter because, well... Yeah. 'Kay, handing it to googleit6 now._

_googleit6: I apologize for brilliantmemories' awkward send off, and, even more so, I apologize for her being a lazy ass. Anyways, we're going to work on the next chapter right after I finish typing this out. There are lots of ideas flowing, and we're super excited to get them on paper. (Or, on Microsoft Word.) Brilliantmemories will get her shit together come next Friday, hopefully, so we can get back to a regular posting schedule. How regular was that, anyways? It only worked for about 2 weeks. Whatever. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Shaun really was asking for it, by the way. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Shaun was lucky that Desmond hadn't broken his nose.

The bastard had left a mark but the ice stopped it from getting any larger than the size of a golf ball. It was annoying that when he began to type, his nose began to throb and he had to stop, unable to concentrate on the tiny words on the screen in front of him more than the sharp pain. Next time they sparred together, he would really take the novice down a couple of notches – that punch had been _pure_ luck. Desmond punched like a seven year old girl and that one hit - that was probably that of professional boxer or such - was completely spur of the moment. Shaun doubted the idiot would be able to pull that off a second time.

He would really regret having that luck.

Right now he had his elbow propped against his desk as he stared at the screen, watching a team of people intently. To be honest, it was quite boring. Watching these people live their lives, sometimes in danger but most of the time, hiding in shadows and evading the enemy. They weren't stuck behind a desk, typing into a keyboard and trying to ignore an idiot that was like a bipolar twat. He could be doing information on Subject Sixteen, which was at least a little bit interesting, but he was stuck watching through the eyes of the other Assassins, telling them where to go. He was telling other people how to live, with no thought on how to live his own life. Though like them, it seemed he lived through orders too.

"Hey Shaun, can I ask you a favour?" It was Lucy.

Without turning around, Shaun replied, "Probably not. I'm quite busy here, Lucy."

"But they're going on a break, aren't they?" She asked and Shaun focused on screen when he noticed they were sitting down and had sent him a message, saying that they were going to sit out for a while and relax.

"Ah, yes well, they'll need me when they come back, won't they?"

"But they said they were going to rest for a couple of hours."

"They did not!" Shaun snapped, but checked back over to his screen to see that they indeed, had said so. "Oh."

"So," Lucy smiled, folding her arms across her chest, "Would you do me that favour?"

Shaun sighed and swivelled around in his chair, stretching as if he were to touch the ceiling. "Depends on what it is."

"No, you'll do it. I want you and Desmond to get supplies. I feel like you two have gotten off on the wrong foot and I don't want it like that. Spend some time together, get acquainted and perhaps find out you might have something in common."

"For crying out loud, Lucy! This isn't like some friend finder mission or a date line! This is Desmond _bloody_ Miles, Assassin that we rescued from _Abstergo – _which is not a happy place to be! I think it's best to lie low and let him run amuck in the Animus and get his work done, don't you think?"

"Animus 2.0, Shaun! How many times do I have to say that?" Rebecca cut in with a frown, walking past them to pick up a cup of coffee.

"Who seriously gives a fuck? I mean, come on-" Shaun began, but was immediately cut off.

"Don't talk about Baby like that!" Rebecca frowned as she took a sip. Shaun rolled his eyes and looked at Lucy again, begging her with his eyes that he wouldn't have to do it.

"Go out. You haven't seen the suns in weeks I'll assume – you really need some fresh air." Lucy said dryly, watching as Desmond walked back into the room. Just because of Shaun's actions earlier, she let him use the historian's bathroom. Secretly, Lucy wished that Desmond had left a mess of toilet paper for Shaun to clean up just as he was bursting for a piss.

"One of you can do it," Shaun rolled his eyes when he saw Desmond, turned back to his computer and minimized the window. He pulled up an internet explorer tab and began to type away, his eyes searching the screen for any information on strange happenings or killings on their local News webpage; secretly works of the blasted Templars. He couldn't get too immersed into it with Lucy standing over his shoulder. "_What?_"

"Please, Shaun? We'll owe you one... please?" She begged but to no avail, Shaun merely ignored her and continued clicking away. "Okay, if you want to play that game – I order you, Shaun. I am officially one rank above you and if you don't do this, I will kick you off the team." Lucy ended her threat with a giant smirk, her eyes shining with seriousness.

"Jesus Christ! Don't you think that sounds like a little too much, Lucy?" Shaun growled and turned all the way around, only to regret it. That face actually scared him.

"Just do it, Shaun." Lucy sighed and uncrossed her arms. Desmond raised an eyebrow as he walked past them and leaned against the counter beside Rebecca, picking up a cup of coffee.

"What are they arguing about?" Desmond asked, grinning as he noticed Shaun's bruised nose.

"Oh, nothing really. Shaun doesn't really wanna take you out but Lucy thinks you two could get along," Rebecca grinned at him, tucking a loose piece of black hair behind her ear.

"Us? Get along? Ha!" Desmond laughed and nearly spilt the black coffee on himself. Watching Lucy and Shaun argue among their selves wasn't very interesting, so Desmond turned to look at Rebecca, who had already started walking away to her Baby.

"When am I going back in?" Desmond asked, following after Rebecca. But his question was answered by Lucy instead.

"Just after you go to the store with Shaun," she smiled and turned around, patting an aggravated Shaun on the shoulder.

"Do I have to go?" Desmond accidently whined, turning around to be met by another one of Shaun's sarcastic grins.

"Oh Desmond, what are you, a tiny child? Come on, man up, it's just a stop by the shop and it-"

"Says the one who was just pissed about it a moment ago..." Desmond mumbled and set his cup back down on the counter and zipped up his hoodie. Shaun rolled his eyes and shut down his computer reluctantly, taking as long as he could to prolong their inevitable walk to the store as Lucy put it, mates. Shaun scoffed.

**...**

"What don't you like about me? Sure, I'm younger than you but that doesn't mean anything," Desmond frowned, wrapping his hoodie tightly around him. He had figured out that they were in mid November now, with the snow cold as it flitted down from the sky and onto his flushing cheeks.

* * *

Shaun had been rubbing his glasses every minute since they left the stronghold, trying to keep the snowflakes from landing on the lenses. He wasn't doing a very good job.

"Desmond…" Shaun said wearily, putting his hand to his forehead as if he were shielding his eyes from the sun- or in this case, snow. "Have you noticed that I don't really like anyone?"

Desmond tugged his wool cap lower over his ears.

"Well… There are only four of us in the apartment. I figured it was just luck of that draw that you got stuck with people you don't particularly like." Desmond watched Shaun rub his glasses again, smearing snowflakes across the lenses.

"I don't like anyone." Shaun repeated, squinting into the snow that had suddenly decided to come down with the intensity of a pit bull attacking a bunny rabbit.

Desmond grimaced.

"What are you, some angst-filled, emo teenager? 'Nobody understands me!'" Desmond fake whined, making movements to suggest he was cutting his wrists with a fake knife. Shaun rolled his eyes, and rubbed his glasses on his coat sleeve, trying to get rid of the streaks the snowflakes had left.

"Desmond, shut the fuck up. I'm not being a teenager about anything. I genuinely don't like people. I don't make a fuss of it, I don't flaunt it, and I don't make a big deal out of it. It's just how I am."

Desmond still wasn't convinced, though.

"That's retarded, Shaun. You're one of those people who has issues opening up and all that girly shit, right? You don't talk about your feelings because you are afraid of them. You are afraid people won't accept you for who you are, right?" Desmond smiled smugly, thinking he had hit the nail on the head.

Instead of answering, Shaun spun around, his fist spinning with him. A moment before Shaun's fist was going to connect with Desmond's jaw, Desmond shot his arm out, grabbing Shaun's wrist and stopping him mid-punch. Shaun's hand was so close to Desmond's mouth, he could feel Desmond breathing on him. Before Shaun realized what he was doing, he actually let himself enjoy the cool, short breaths from Desmond on his closed fist. It created a nice contrast between Desmond's comparably warm hand holding Shaun's wrist. For a brief second, Shaun thought about how nice it all felt. Once that brief second was over, he realized what he was doing, and ripped his hand from Desmond's, his face redder than the blood that Desmond had knocked out of him earlier today.

For a moment, they both stood there, Shaun feeling extremely awkward, hoping that Desmond hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. His face was burning.

Desmond was looking at his fist. "Holy shit…" He marvelled, examining his fingers. "How the hell did I do that?"

Shaun felt his embarrassment melt away slowly. As it did, it was replaced by amazement.

"You seem to be adapting to the Bleeding Affect quite well." Shaun awed, watching Desmond stare at his fingers - his very nice fingers, actually. Long and lean, and smooth hands it looked like, too…

_Gah! _Shaun blinked furiously, trying to snap himself out of it. _What the hell is up with you today, Hastings? _Shaun shook himself visibly, and took off at a fast walk, leaving Desmond to catch up.

"Hey! Shaun! Slow down!" Desmond's legs weren't as long as Shaun's, so he was having trouble keeping up. He felt like a child trying to keep up with their parent's long, powerful strides.

Shaun merely grunted in response, and sped up.

"Shaun!" Desmond shouted again, and this time, grabbed Shaun's shoulder and spun him around. He then put his other hand on Shaun's open shoulder, and looked at Shaun with a half pissed, half exasperated expression. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Shaun tried his best to ignore the fact that Desmond was only an arm's length away from him. He refused to acknowledge that Desmond's hands were on his shoulders, and that seeing Desmond's eyes flash like that was sort of intriguing.

_Hot, you mean, _Shaun's brain informed him. _Intriguing is the wrong word. You just don't want to admit to anything._

Shaun whipped his head back and forth, and shrugged Desmond off without answering or looking at him. He could almost _hear _Desmond roll his eyes, and just decide to let it be. Shaun was extremely grateful for Desmond's weak will. Once more snow clouded his vision, Shaun decided to give up on his glasses. He took them off and put them in his pocket. At least he wouldn't have to look at Desmond anymore. Or not see him clearly, at least.

With Shaun's speed walking and lack of conversation, they made it to the store in record time.

"Hey, I know where we are!" Desmond exclaimed, excited to see a familiar landmark.

Shaun felt his stomach drop to the snow beneath his feet. As quickly and swiftly as he could manage, he grabbed Desmond by the shirt collar and dragged him into an alley to the side of the store. He then proceeded to slam Desmond up against the brick wall, and put his lips to Desmond's ear.

Desmond let out a chorus of loud protests, with "What the fucking _hell_?" Being uttered about half a dozen times alone.

"Shhh!" Shaun hissed. When Desmond wouldn't shut up, Shaun put his hand over Desmond's mouth, making sure no cameras or people were around to see them.

"Did anyone see us?" Shaun asked wildly, his eyes darting left and right like he was watching a tennis match.

"Uh… no?" Desmond tried to say around Shaun's hand.

"Be quiet, got it?" Shaun asked. When Desmond nodded, and he took his hand off Desmond's mouth, he then rubbed said hand on his slacks. _Ugh_, he though. _Desmond germs_.

"What the fuck is going on?" Desmond exclaimed. "I though you were going to rape me or something, Shaun. What the hell are you doing? This is ridi-" Desmond was cut off by Shaun covering Desmond's mouth again.

"You said you could be quiet, you tool!" Shaun hissed, looking around again. "Whatever. I'm not taking any more chances with that."

"Whutthefookisthgoonon?" Desmond asked mushily through Shaun's hand.

Shaun sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"If you know this store, the Templars know you know it." Shaun whispered in Desmond's ear, hot and quick. "They'll be scouting _everywhere _for you, and I mean_ everywhere_. If you took a shit in a port o' potty on the highway, they will be there. If you ate a piece of a pie at rundown diner in the boonies, they will know, and they will be there. They'll be _everywhere_."

Desmond tried to say something, but Shaun couldn't understand it.

"What?" He asked. Suddenly, he was doubled over, wheezing, having had the breath knocked out of him.

"I _said_," Desmond informed Shaun, straightening his rumpled shirt collar, "That I can't speak around your hand. Anyways, I've never actually been in this store. I just know _of _it. I know of a lot of places. I don't think the Templars can cover every place I know of. They're good, but they aren't that good."

Something in Shaun was telling him not to do it. Something told him to go back to Lucy, and try a new store.

A much bigger part of him, however, told him that he'd have to spend even more time with Desmond if they went back to Lucy empty handed. That was something that Shaun had no intention of doing. And besides, if Desmond had never been in the store, they were probably okay.

A momentary lapse in judgement never hurt anybody, right?

* * *

**Authors' Notices:**

_brilliantmemories:_ Once again, the break is where we switched off. I wrote first, she wrote second. Anyways! Sorry for such a huge break... We both went away for a week, then I never really got my stuff back together and I just a giant writer's block. So lately, I've been having tons of trouble cranking out the works. Though, another chapter of No One Knows is halfway done and googleit6 will be starting the next chapter. So, hope you guys enjoyed because we're just getting started!

_googleit6: _Blame brilliantmemories for everything. It's her fault. Anyways, shovelling blame aside, I tried to write Shaun's whole physical attraction thing as not too overt. Because... Well... It will come into play later in the story, though I can't say much more than that. Long story short, it's a good thing Desmond and his ancestors look alike... And that they were all hot. Hope you guys enjoyed! See you next week! (Hopefully!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A bell dinged somewhere in the small grocery store as Desmond and Shaun walked in, looking like they were suffering from a case of extreme dandruff. Looking even more irritated than usual, Shaun brushed snow off the shoulders of his black trench coat and stalked to the back of the shop, trying to get away from Desmond. Unfortunately, the store was much smaller than Shaun had originally thought. He went to the aisle closest to the back, only to see that Desmond had had the exact same idea, and they were now face to face again- and in a very confined space with shelves packed to the point of exploding. If Shaun had been the kind of guy who gushed at pretty cushions and sparkly things, he probably would have gone as far as to describe their current surroundings as cozy.

It was a good thing Shaun wasn't like that, though, because he could now describe their surroundings as uncomfortable in the extreme, and he wouldn't get caught up in the, er… _perfect place to fuck someone named Desmond? _Whispered his brain.

_Fuck off, brain, _Shaun responded, turning on his heel. He needed to get out of here now. When he heard footsteps behind him, and he deduced that Desmond had decided to follow him, Shaun almost cracked right there.

"Desmond," Shaun said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Why don't you go get some bread?"

"Roger that," Desmond mumbled, and walked to the end of the aisle. Once he disappeared around the corner, Shaun slumped to the ground.

_What. The. Fuck? _He asked himself. What was going on? Where the hell had this wildfire attraction come from? He wasn't _that _desperate, was he?

_The man is good looking. You have to admit that. _His brain informed him. Shaun considered this. It was hard to ignore the fact that Desmond was a complete twit, but when he stripped Desmond down to basic looks (And not his underwear- _Bad Shaun_!) he was pretty attractive. Probably fit, too, considering he was an assassin. Well, maybe half an assassin. But still, the fact remained. Shaun caught himself thinking briefly about the eternal question (boxers or briefs?) when he mentally slapped himself. Now was _really _not the time to realize that you were physically attracted to your co worker. Not when getting back to the stronghold might turn deadly at any given moment.

Speaking of the stronghold, Shaun realized that they had better get going and he hadn't even started picking things up yet. He heaved himself off the floor, dusted himself off, and pulled his shopping list out of his pocket. Desmond chose this exact moment to come back with the two loaves of bread they needed. He stopped short when he saw the list in Shaun's hand.

"Whoa. Isn't a list sort of a girly thing?" He smirked, picking some canned fruit off the shelf Shaun had just been leaning against.

Shaun rolled his eyes. Definitely not attracted to the personality.

"No, Desmond. Lists keep you organized. Organization is gender neutral, thank you very much. You could do with some organization yourself, you know. Map out your plan to get to Lucy?"

Desmond froze mid-reach for a can of peas. Shaun couldn't help notice how his heavy sweater pulled up his t-shirt, exposing a quick glimpse of Desmond's sides and abs, and answering one of his questions from earlier. Yep. He was definitely fit. _Very _fit.

"What are you talking about?" Desmond asked quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. He had unfrozen himself, and was now adding the peas to the basket he had picked up when he went to get the bread.

"Oh, please," Shaun scoffed. "It's so _obvious_. You want to jump her bones, and you communicate that to her by using such God-awful lines that I could have sworn you were a cheese expert in a former life."

"Well then what would you suggest? I mean, you are of course an expert on relationships, considering that you don't even _like _anyone, let alone feel an attraction towards anybody."

A hysteric laugh escaped Shaun, who immediately covered his mouth with his hand. Desmond looked on with wary eyes.

"Uh… You okay, Shaun?" Desmond asked cautiously.

Shaun cleared his throat, and started towards the register.

"Yep. I'm fine. You almost done? Then let's get out of here."

"Okay, we'll have to take a different route back," Shaun informed Desmond as they exited the store, each carrying a grocery bag.

"Why?" Desmond asked.

Shaun sighed.

"Are you thick, Desmond? Wait, don't answer that. Of course you are. What did we discuss before coming into the store, hm? Discretion? Maybe you were too busy making a fuss to hear me. _These Templars are all over the place._ They will eat us for breakfast if there are enough of them. I'm a pretty good fighter, but not much of an escape artist. And you… Well. We can only hope that the Bleeding Effect has decided to stay with you. We would have to fight through the Templars, which would not be an ideal situation. They might spare you, since you are useful. But I'm a nobody. I'll get axed before you can say 'Piece of Eden'."

"Piece of Eden." Desmond replied hopefully.

Shaun narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. This is the perfect time to joke, isn't it? When our lives -_my _life- is at stake. Let's move." Shaun turned down the alley that they had recently inhabited. He figured there was a roundabout route they could take. Luckily, he had a pretty good sense of direction.

"Yes, _mom_." Desmond said sarcastically, following close behind Shaun. "You know, I'm not a complete moron."

"I beg to differ." Shaun responded flatly, moving swiftly through the alleyway. He was extremely skittish, and jumped at the smallest sound. Unfortunately, Desmond hadn't exactly acquired the "stealth" gene from his ancestors. His feet crunched loudly on the tightly packed snow, and Shaun almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a crack behind him. He whirled around, fists at the ready, only to see Desmond standing sheepishly over a broken twig.

"My bad." Desmond almost apologized.

Shaun took a deep breath, trying to get his racing heart to calm down.

"Fuck, Desmond. Pay attention to where you're going, will you? We've got to get back. I have a bad feeling about being here."

And indeed he did. As soon as they had exited the store, Shaun had felt eyes on them, and he was pretty sure they weren't admiring Desmond's spectacular abs.

The pair continued down the alley, and they were almost to the end, when something whizzed past Shaun's left ear. He smelled burned hair and skin. Shaun glanced behind him. Desmond was clutching his left ear, and blood was pouring trickling through his fingers.

"Shit! Desmond, are you okay?" Shaun asked, rushing to his side.

"I'm fine." Desmond answered, waving his bloody hand at Shaun dismissively. "It only grazed my earlobe." Blood drops splattered on the snow.

"Thank God," Shaun said, and for a minute, Desmond thought he was going to say something nice, when… "Lucy would have killed me if you died."

Desmond made a face that Shaun didn't see, as he had turned around, looking to see where the shot had come from. He figured it had been a bullet, though he had heard no gunshot. A silencer, maybe?

Suddenly, another bullet flew past Shaun, but on his right this time. Figures appeared at the end of the alleyway that Desmond and Shaun had just come from, and as Shaun turned around to pull Desmond the other way, more figures appeared the way that they had been planning on going.

Desperately, Shaun looked at the red brick buildings blocking him and Desmond in. An extremely experienced assassin, who had mastered the art of free running, could probably scale those walls, but Shaun was no experienced assassin, or a master of free running. Zero for two, it seemed.

The Templars were closing in fast on either side, and Shaun realized that there was no getting out of it. He had told Desmond that they would have to fight their way back to the stronghold, and now he was going to have to cash in on his promise.

Quickly, Shaun pulled up his right pant leg, and pulled a dagger out of its holster on his right ankle. From his left side, he pulled out a small pistol. Not the most ideal arsenal, but he hadn't expected to be ganged up on, no matter what he told Desmond about the extremely high chances of them being attacked.

For the first time in his life, Shaun wasn't bursting with pride and smugness at having proved himself right.

* * *

Shaun knew that Desmond didn't have a weapon on him; they had left the hidden blade back at the stronghold. It still had kinks for them to kick out, considering it hadn't been used in years. So instead of keeping the dagger for himself, he tossed it back effortlessly to Desmond, heart pounding with adrenaline as he cocked the .45 in his hand.

"Desmond, we gotta tag team these bastards," Shaun snapped, grabbing the man's arm, pulling him out of the way of a barrage of pathetically fired bullets.

"Give it up, Assassins!" The henchmen yelled, cackling with wicked smirks. "If you give it up now, you might actually get out of this alive." They all broke out in a chorus of laughter, as if this moment had been rehearsed in drama class time after time. Shaun snorted and took a shot, hitting one of the men right in the heart, taking him out in an instant. The others watched in horror as one of their men went down which, of course, hadn't been according to the plan.

Hastily, Desmond threw a knife, trying to hone Ezio's superb throwing abilities and to his surprise, got a goon right in the middle of his forehead. And for a moment, it horrified Desmond. Shaun saw the look on his face; the look of killing your first man.

"It gets easier after the first few," Shaun growled, shoving Desmond along so he wasn't a star struck statue anymore. Desmond snapped back and raised his fists, ready to fight back against the men who had brought batons, ready to beat the shit out of them.

But Desmond had thought of something else other than fighting the enemies at hand. Then before Shaun could stop him, Desmond leapt at the brick wall and to everyone's amazement, ricocheted off the walls and after a few moments of disbelief, made it to the roof without uttering a single word.

"Desmond... What the fuck are you doing?" Shaun shouted in a rage of fury, fists clenched tightly as he watched the white sweater disappear from sight. Suddenly, six pairs of piercing eyes were on him. Shaun's blood went cold as he knew he couldn't jump those walls. That he couldn't run past those goons without receiving a load of broken bones – and by the looks of their steroid pumped arms, just bumping into them could shatter his whole skeleton. But then he suddenly remembered the gun in his hand and how it was quite effective against heavy blokes like that, even if they did have a considerable amount of weight acting like a fleshly armour to protect their organs.

But Shaun could see the goons looked reluctant. Their orders presumably, had been to capture Desmond Miles and take no prisoners other than the infamous Subject Seventeen himself. But since neither of the options seemed present, Shaun figured he was just an eyesore to them – like a massive spider sitting in the middle of an immaculate, white carpet. Nothing else to do than squash it because if it's let free, then it could come back again.

Then suddenly, a baton struck him hard against the back, causing him to grunt in pain as he spun around, whipping the handgun across the ugly bloke's face causing possibly a broken nose with the amount of blood that ran like a free flowing fountain. Obviously, fighting one man meant the others were to join in on the brawl, making one against six quite a hard fight.

And so Shaun fought like he had never fought before. Blood splattered, bones cracked, sweat dripped and skin was split right open.

Shaun smashed a baton over the top of a man's head, causing blood to seep through his hair and down his face; all in a way that not even the most gruesome horror movie could portray with expensive special effects. It was bone chilling as he heard the screams and shouts of each man as they went down, mixed with his own cries out of pain. He was bloodied, bruised, and maybe there was a broken bone somewhere in all three hundred and two of the lot. After watching the bodies fall to the ground, either groaning in agony or unconscious due to the brute forces they had endured, Shaun didn't know how to feel. Standing alone in the snow, Shaun regarded how artistic the blood looked in the snow, all splattered in different directions and gathered in different sizes.

But suddenly all the aches and pains in his body pulled him away from stupid, irrelevant thoughts. Slowly, he began to limp away from the scene of the gruesome crime and back out onto the street, slinking back into the shadows, carrying the three bags of groceries that the bloody wanker had dropped. It hurt pretty damn bad.

Though now he had only one thing in mind and that was to fucking murder Desmond bloody Miles.

"Desmond! What... happened to your ear? Oh my God!" Lucy ran over to Desmond as he walked in from the hallway, who was joined by a worried Rebecca as they both examined his bloody ear, with a tiny bit missing, left somewhere in the snow.

"I kind of... got shot. Though it's okay," Desmond sighed, but it really did hurt like a bitch. Lucy pulled him over to her desk and sat him down as Rebecca grabbed the First Aid box. The two set down to work on cleaning up the wound, as if it was fatal but Desmond knew they were just overreacting.

"What happened?" Rebecca asked as she swiped his ear with disinfectant, causing Desmond to yelp like he had when they first injected the DNA reader into his wrist for the Animus.

"Shaun and I went to get groceries... then suddenly we were cornered in some alleyway and they began to open fire..." Desmond stopped short, blinking furiously.

"... Go on," Rebecca urged him, frowning as she began to patch up his ear. It wasn't looking too bad but she knew that their friend had gotten lucky. To Desmond's surprise, Lucy affectionately rubbed her thumb against Desmond's cheek.

"Sorry, you had a bit of blood there..." She smiled sweetly at him, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Desmond nodded and tried to recall what happened next. He couldn't believe that he was drawing up a blank.

"I... I don't know what happened next. I just... blacked out, then the next thing I remember is I'm walking through the stronghold door in agony..." Desmond mumbled, trying to grab any memory that might fill out the gap in his mind. It was like something was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't quite recall it.

Rebecca swallowed heavily and applied a few small bandages. "Maybe you passed out from going into shock from the blood loss...? Could be other things but-"

"Yeah! That sounds right. I was pretty dizzy before I remember blacking out..." Desmond smiled weakly at the two girls as Rebecca took a damp cloth and cleaned the remaining blood off his neck.

"... So, where's Shaun?" Lucy asked hesitantly, watching as Desmond's face went from calm to a sudden panic.

"I left him back in the alleyway with all those big men! We have to go back and get him!" Desmond shouted and tried to get up in a hurry but a voice suddenly stopped him and caught the girls' attention.

"Oh? Do you now? Well, I saved you the trouble and came back all by my fucking self." Shaun snapped, his tone malicious as he dropped the grocery bags on the floor, dripping with blood.

"Shaun!" Rebecca cried out and rushed over to him, completely abandoning Desmond, who was too shocked to say anything. "Your clothes...! Your face! You look absolutely horrible! What the hell happened back there?"

"Well, thanks for the reassuring and pleasant welcome back, Rebecca," his tone was spiteful, even though he was talking to Rebecca. Desmond knew that tone – he had used it when they went out. Knew that it was the way he talked down on people, pissed off and ready to start throwing punches.

"I'm sorry but-"

"_YOU!"_ Shaun shouted, his sudden change of volume completely catching Desmond off guard. Before Lucy, Rebecca or Desmond could do anything to prevent what was coming next, Shaun crossed the room in six heavy, determined strides and smashed his fist into Desmond's jaw, knocking him to the floor. A sudden chill swept over the room as Rebecca grabbed Shaun's arms, jerking him back as Lucy joined Desmond's side, daring Shaun to back down as their eyes met for a split second.

"What the fuck, Shaun? What the hell did I do to you?" Desmond shouted, wiping the blood out of the corner of his lips.

"What did you do to me? _Well!_" Shaun was near hysteric, eyes wild with revenge as he broke from Rebecca's hold and wound up his leg, kicked and connected his hard, leather shoe with Desmond's nose. Fuck Prada. He just wanted to fuck up Desmond and his fucking good looks.

"_**Shaun!**_" Lucy screamed and jumped at him and before he could mutter an apology, a knife was at his throat, daring to draw _his_ blood. "You touch him one more time I swear to God you won't see another day. He did nothing wrong, he just blacked out from shock and-"

"He blacked out from shock?" Shaun broke in a mad laugh, pulling roughly away from Lucy and her furious hold. "The bastard fucking left me with six guys on my bleeding ass! He abandoned me! He hates me and he nearly had me killed for it!"

The room went silent as Lucy and Rebecca glanced over at Desmond, whose eyes had gone wide.

"I... I left you there? With six of those beefy guys...?" Desmond asked in astonishment. "That's... low. That's an asshole move-"

"And you fucking did it!" Shaun hollered at the top of his lungs, enraged at Desmond's obnoxious and unprofessional behaviour. He went for another move but Lucy whipped her knife back out and threatened him back, using words that Shaun thought he would never come out of Lucy's oh so innocent mouth. For all Shaun cared, she could fuck off right about now.

"I don't remember! Shaun, come on!"

"How do you not remembering scaling that two story wall? Huh? He's fucking with me!" Shaun screamed in frustration, grabbing a bunch of his own hair and tugging in frustration.

"Look, he said he blacked out from shock and-" Rebecca tried to protect her new friend, but Shaun was not having any of that.

"Stop fucking standing up for him like he can't speak for himself! You're a big boy, aren't you, Desmond? Oh wait, I forgot. You're not. You can't take care of your bloody self, you probably use the bloody internet for pathetic pick up lines to try on Lucy, and you're one of the most blandest people I've ever fucking met! How did _you_ get to be Subject Seventeen? Fuck, I'd prefer to have a fight to the death with insane Subject Sixteen than spend one more moment with you. Actually, you know what Desmond? Fuck you. Fuck your tactics. You will never, ever, be a good assassin like Ezio had. And most certainly, you will never, ever, ever get Lu-" Before he could finish his sentence, Lucy slapped him with as much strength as she could muster, causing his vision to go black for a second. Then suddenly, just as he was recovering, Rebecca punched him. That's right, fucking _punched_ him like the 'big bad' butch Shaun thought she was.

"Look, Shaun, as much as you're a pain in the ass, and trust me, I've said this enough times to get this through that thick skull of yours, we're a team. Do you know what that is? It's a group of people who work together to achieve the same goal and rake in the success together," Lucy huffed, sheathing her dagger into its case before she went back and helped Desmond up. Shaun sneered as he began to walk away.

"Well, you don't always have to like everyone on your fucking team," Shaun spat, furious as he made his way to his bedroom.

"But you don't have to try and kill them either!" Rebecca called out after him.

"Yeah, well tell that to Desmond!" Shaun yelled back and Rebecca began after him but stopped short when she heard his bedroom door slide shut and lock loudly. Defeated, she walked back to Lucy and Desmond, a frown on her face.

Desmond decided to break the silence. "It's just me, isn't it?"

Rebecca and Lucy looked at each other, sighed, and went back to their stations, leaving Desmond to wander aimlessly until they started the Animus back up. Instead of going to bug Shaun, which he longed to do, even though it might have earned him another punch, he started to unpack the groceries. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a small, apologetic smile from Lucy, which he returned sincerely with a small wink from a blackening eye.

* * *

**_Authors' Notices:_**

**brilliantmemories:** Well! Sorry this one took so long, guys. I've just moved to the other side of the country and I've yet to settle down (we're hotel hopping for about a week or two). So, internet connections have been unstable and such. So, we're gonna try to do this while we're on opposite ends of the country and we've got plenty of plans down for this! Also, it's switched this time. She wrote the first bit and I wrote the second. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it and I apologize for the delay. ^^;

**googleit6: **Hey guys. I gotta say, brilliantmemories' part is hilarious. I love me some Shaun 'Kick-Ass' Hastings. I was pretty much laughing my ass off the whole time I was reading her part. (And beta reading, may I add.)  
Anyways, I'm just working on the first part of chapter six now, so let it be stated, for the record, that I am not to blame in this. Blame it on the one who ditches me and moves across the country, leaving me to fend for myself in a black abyss of souless apathy... /melodrama  
Continuing... Hope you guys enjoyed this installment. We've got lots more shennanigens coming up, and hopefully they will be coming up on schedule. *glares at brilliantmemories* 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 REUPLOADED **

**_brilliantmemories:_ I just wanted to give everyone a heads up that this is all _googleit6_'s work. I haven't been able to write this story at all lately but I'm going to kick off chapter seven next time. In the meanwhile, enjoy (and I'm _completely sorry_ for the large update gap)!**

_**googleit6: **_**Okay so this was up a while ago, but, as usual, _someone _didn't upload it properly, and stuff happened, and this is coming out about two weeks -probably more- after it was written. I apologize for _someone's _lack of brain cells. Enjoy! **

* * *

"I should go talk to him…" Desmond mused, staring at Shaun's bedroom door with an almost alarming intensity.

Rebecca looked up from her Baby, an anxious look on her face.

"I think you'd better leave him alone, Desmond." She advised. "I've lived with him for a long time, and he is probably still just as mad as he was an hour ago."

Desmond frowned.

"I didn't _mean _to leave him like that. I have no idea how it happened." He muttered, putting his face in his hands.

He heard Rebecca's fingers still on the Animus' keyboard. She rolled her chair across the floor, its wheels scraping remorselessly against the wood.

"Geeze, Rebecca, you'll end up falling through the floor with that thing dragging around." Desmond observed, eyeing the wheels on the bottom of the chair, which he was sure would have sparks flying around them by now.

Rebecca chuckled.

"Doubt it." She said, pulling up next to Desmond and throwing her arm around his shoulders. "This chair has been with me for years. I found it in a dumpster out back, if you can believe it, one night when I went to throw the trash out."

Desmond smiled weakly.

"That's great."

"Well, sort of. It's just a chair, after all." Rebecca was silent for a moment, glancing at Shaun's closed door, hoping her voice wouldn't carry. "You know, things will be okay between you and Shaun. He just get's a little bit upset when people leave him for dead and all that great stuff." She explained, her eyes soft.

Sighing, Desmond stood up, and started pacing.

"I just wish I knew what happened." He mumbled, putting a hand over his swelling nose where Shaun had kicked him. _Cheap shot_. _Who the hell kicks people nowadays, anyways? _

Rebecca shook her head, rolling herself back to the Animus' keyboard after giving Desmond a reassuring pat on the back.

"I'm sure it was nothing. Just shock." She said, starting to enter some codes.

Desmond went to look out the window near his bed. The snow was still coming down. He stared out into the falling snow for a few minutes, hypnotized by the softly falling flakes. It was so peaceful out there. Inside, tensions were thick enough to spread on toast in the morning. And Desmond didn't even like toast.

All that could be heard were Rebecca clicking away on her keyboard, and Desmond's intermittent sighs that fogged up the window pane. It would all be so normal. A snowy day, someone ignoring everyone else on their laptop, someone working hard to make this get together memorable, someone mad in their room, and someone restless out of their mind. It was just like all the family gatherings Desmond had seen on TV.

Except most families weren't assassins.

Desmond started to drum his fingers on the window sill, watching the snow lazily. He could feel his eyelids start to droop. He wasn't that tired, but he couldn't help but follow the snowflakes as they fell down… down… Only to be snapped out of it by a loud yell from Rebecca and a resounding _bang _from the Animus.

Using the quick reflexes that he had started to inherit from Ezio, -that only worked sometimes- Desmond shot up from his seat at the window sill, leaped over the bed, and jumped down the stairs, and was standing in front of Rebecca in just over a second. She was crouching, and shaking.

"Christ, Rebecca, are you okay?" Desmond gasped, his heart racing. He put a hand on Rebecca's shoulder. Slowly, she turned a white face to him. Her eyes were wide.

"What the hell happened?" She panted, blinking rapidly.

Desmond led her to the bed, and sat her down on it.

"I'm not sure," He said quietly, trying to see if there were any physical marks on her. Rebecca stood up and took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," She assured him. "It just freaked me out."

Desmond met her stare with disapproving eyes.

"You're going to electrocute yourself with that thing," he told her.

Rebecca frowned.

"Don't insult me, Desmond. It just short circuited from me tinkering with it. I know what I'm doing, but I probably nicked something. I have to fix it before it starts sparking all over the place."

Desmond sighed, looking around awkwardly. He didn't want to physically stop Rebecca from going back to the Animus, and they did need someone to fix it.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and pushed Desmond out of the way. "Thank you, though, for helping me." She smiled at him. "I'm fine, and I'll prove it." She walked over to Shaun's bedroom door, and banged on it with her fist. "Thanks for helping, Shaun. I'm fine!" She yelled, banging on the door one last time before settling back into her chair by the Animus. She glanced at Desmond, a smile at the corner of her mouth. "See? I'm all good." And she returned to her machine, whistling.

"Whatever you say," Desmond sighed, walking out of the room. "I'm going to go see Lucy- be careful." He warned her.

"Yes, yes…" Rebecca replied in the kind of tone a teenager would answer their parents after having been asked to be at home before their curfew.

Desmond snorted, and walked into the hallway. He entered the warehouse, where the temperature dropped about ten degrees. It really was winter. His footsteps were echoing all over the warehouse. He wanted to make sure Lucy knew he was coming.

What Shaun said during his temper tantrum had been playing like a broken record in his head.

_And most certainly, you will never, ever, ever get Lucy_

_And most certainly, you will never, ever, ever get Lucy_

_And most certainly, you will never, ever, ever get Lucy_

Fuck. The cat was out of the bag now, and all Desmond wanted to do was shove it back in. He hated cats. And now, he hated them even more. Stupid little mean, condescending, annoying animals. Maybe he should get Shaun one.

Desmond reached the warehouse floor, looking for the blond hair. He weaved between the aisles of high stacked boxes, but couldn't find her anywhere.

"Lucy!" He called. "Lu-!" Suddenly, a hand was around his mouth, and he was shoved up against a stack of metal boxes. Ezio's reflexes had decided to leave him at a crucial point, and now he was defenceless and weapon less and skill less, and he was going to die right here in the warehouse and Shaun would be a tool about it and Rebecca would never get to use her Baby properly, and he wouldn't even get a chance to shove the cat back into the bag and… it was Lucy.

"Lucy!" Desmond sputtered, after she had taken her hand away from his mouth. She was smiling. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked. She smirked.

"I was testing your reflexes." She explained. "Unfortunately, you don't seem to have any at the moment."

"Well…" Desmond scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I _had _some, but they seem to have… taken a break."

"Taken a break, eh?" Lucy asked, dropping the pretence of playfulness. "That's not surprising. It's a lot for your system to handle at once, and it will be rejecting it as much as it can, so it will be difficult for said reflexes to find a grounding in you. You may not believe me, but those few days at Abstergo helped soften you up for this, when we actually _need _you to absorb as many skills as fast as possible."

"I don't want to give those bastards at Abstergo any credit for anything," Desmond said fiercely.

Lucy just stared at him apologetically.

After a moment, she asked:

"Is Shaun still… in a mood?"

Desmond nodded, and she sighed.

"You'd think we'd all be mature enough to realize that personal relationships are _not _important at all right now, especially when the Templars are hot on our trail." Lucy said, shaking her head.

"I don't think it can be helped, though." Desmond responded, suddenly getting the feeling that they weren't talking about him and Shaun at all.

"It may not, but that doesn't mean that things like that should get in the way. Feelings have to be pushed aside… for now." She explained, and, if Desmond was hearing right, he could have sworn he caught a hint of regret in her words.

They definitely weren't talking about him and Shaun.

"Then, you and Shaun can hate each other's guts as much as you want when this is all over, but, please, just put it aside for now. We're a team, and need to stay together."

Wait. So they _were _talking about him and Shaun? Desmond's head was spinning. He could have sworn he saw subtitles under their conversation, and they were in a whole different language than what had been going on at the surface.

"Yeah, a team…" Desmond mumbled, trying to figure out what he should say without looking like a total moron. Should he say something about what Shaun said earlier? Did Lucy even hear it? Did she dismiss it as Shaun just being furious, or did she just find the idea laughable?

_Women. So complicated._ Desmond thought scornfully, feeling the silence between him and Lucy thicken. Trying to disperse it, he blurted the first thing that came to mind, and there couldn't have been a worse thought in his mind to express to Lucy than this one.

"Do you find Ezio attractive?"

Lucy's eyes widened, and Desmond felt his face turn redder than the blood that had been pouring out of his ear earlier today.

_What the _hell _was that? _He asked his brain.

_Retreat. Get the hell out of there, now! Move, move, move! _His brain responded, in full-on survival mode. Desmond's consciousness might just leave his body behind, he was so embarrassed.

Lucy was silent, her face quickly catching up to Desmond's on the red scale.

"Um…" Desmond muttered, attempting to push his mortification aside; it was difficult. Mortification was heavy, in the way the Great Wall of China was heavy. It just didn't like to be moved very far- especially not by one person, pushing feebly on its base. "I'm going to go…"

Before Lucy could say anything, Desmond turned around, only to realize what he really was asking. It wasn't about Ezio. It was about him. The real question was, _Did Lucy find _him _attractive_?

_This might be your only chance to find out, _whispered his brain, completely switching sides from a few moments ago.

_Traitor, _Desmond mentally snarled, ignoring his instincts telling him that this might be his only chance to talk to Lucy- _really _talk to her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Desmond?" Lucy asked worriedly, her eyes big.

Desmond shrugged her off, annoyed at himself. The embarrassment was back full force, and with it came his brain, telling him to stay, to stay here and talk, and try and explain the completely inappropriate question he had just asked. He was mad, now. It was building too quickly to be natural, and Desmond knew he needed to get out. Why was he so mad? His heart was beating, his hands were starting to shake. There wasn't even anything definitive he felt angry about. It was just pure feeling.

"I've never seen you like this." Lucy whispered, feeling the unmistakable tension that suddenly coursed throughout his body, "It may be a side affect of the Bleeding Affect.

Desmond whirled around, enraged, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Completely crazy to blow up like this, but he could feel it coming like a farmer could feel a storm.

_Leave now, Lucy_, the only rational part of his brain momentarily working thought didn't. And she was out of time.

"Oh, MORE side affects? Side affects of side affects? That's just _great_, Lucy. _Awesome_. I'm so _glad _to be a part of this little tree house club. You know, you ought to be more patient with this sort of thing. I don't see you or Shaun or Rebecca risking your _life _in that machine. You know, Rebecca just about shocked herself into a heart attack about ten minutes ago. And that was just with her fucking around with it! Imagine being _in _the machine when shit hits the fan! I'll be crispy fried in two seconds flat. Not even to mention Abstergo, who are coming with fucking tanks to knock down our little wooden tree house. No one wants you _dead_. I'm wanted dead by the most powerful corporation in the world, and our defences consist of three assassins and a chain lock. How do you think this will end, hm?"

When Lucy finally spoke, after Desmond's furious words finished echoing around the warehouse, it was a surprising contrast to how hostile Desmond had been just a moment before.

"We've paid our dues, Desmond. I told you about my life at Abstergo. I know about Shaun and Rebecca and all that they've been through. We've all done our part, and, unfortunately, it's your turn. You agreed to help us on your own terms. No one forced you. You can leave whenever you want. The door is right there. Thank you for what you've done up until now."

Desmond looked between Lucy and the door multiple times, his face stony. He was still breathing hard, and Lucy could sense that Rebecca was hidden somewhere at the top of the stairs, listening to every word. Shaun could probably hear Desmond all the way up in his room.

"Lucy, I don't know… why. I'm sorry," Desmond seemed to come to his senses, and Lucy was ready to embrace him, to tell him that it would wear off, that they would be okay. But to her surprise, Desmond didn't step forward to hug her, but took off out the door of the warehouse, leaving Lucy in his wake.

Desmond could practically feel the snow melting as it touched his burning skin. Now, his embarrassment came from his completely ridiculous temper tantrum. What had happened to him? Maybe Lucy was right, and it had been a side affect, which made him worry about _other _unforeseen side affects in the future.

"Christ, what the hell am I going to do?" He asked of no one as he entered the small courtyard beside the building.

"I hope you're so overcome with grief at your complete fuck up that you are out here thinking up ways to make it up to me. You know, like how you are going to contact all of my friends and get them to attend my surprise 'I'm so sorry I left you to die' party." Shaun deadpanned from a bench at the back of the courtyard.

"Shit!" Desmond shouted, jumping. "How the hell-? You were in your room and I never saw you… How did you get out here?"

Shaun smirked.

"I'm an assassin, Desmond. I may be a bit out of practise, but so are you and my female companions. You wouldn't see a tarantula crawl across the floor, if you were engrossed enough in something- like the snowflakes falling outside." He snorted. "I never took you for a 'contemplating the mysteries of the universe by staring out the window for hours' sort of guy, Desmond."

Desmond rolled his eyes.

"So you didn't climb out your window?"

Shaun narrowed his eyes.

"That would be depressingly ironic, wouldn't it? You leave me for dead by climbing up the side of a building. I save _your _life by climbing _down _the side of a building."

The snow started blowing harder, causing Shaun to take off his glasses and slip them in the pocket of his trench coat. Desmond narrowed his eyes.

"You saved my life by going outside? How does that work, exactly? Was the heat from your stare going to make me spontaneously combust?"

Shaun glared.

"I was so mad, Desmond. I could have killed you. Especially after Lucy wasn't there to protect you anymore."

"Yeah, well, kill me now. I don't think she'll be protecting me anytime soon." Desmond said dejectedly.

"Oh ho! Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up."

"What happened?"

"Ugh. I freaked out at her for no reason. It was so unprecedented. I got mad at the stupidest thing. I asked her an embarrassing question, and then I totally over reacted."

"What was the question?" Shaun asked, genuinely curious.

Desmond was silent.

"Come on, Desmond. You almost got me killed. I deserve to know."

"How long are you going to hold that against me?" Desmond asked, motioning for Shaun to slide over so he could join him on the bench.

"Well," Shaun stroked his faux beard, pretending to think. "It did happen today. I think I have a _right _to be mad, for at least today. But, if we live past today, I'll probably hold it against you, well, for a really long time. Leaving one to die is quite high up there on the 'never-letting-you-forget' list of things. And I'm quite a notorious grudge holder as well, so put those two together, and you don't have a serial killer's chance in hell at getting on my good side anytime soon."

Desmond groaned.

"I asked her if she thought Ezio was attractive."

"…and?" Shaun prompted.

"That was the question." Desmond explained, his eyes widening when Shaun stuck out his hand and whacked him upside the head hard enough to make his ears ring.

"You twat!" Shaun shouted. "What the hell? Are you thirteen years old? Christ, I was prepared for you asking her to marry you or some bullshit that was at least _remotely _funny. This is what sixteen year old girls giggle about at sleepovers, you tool. And, Ezio is obviously attractive. I'm sure Lucy had already decided it. Why is it such an awkward question? Please, let's hear this oh-so-good reasoning."

"Well… I think it was more of a 'Does Lucy find _me_ attar- Wait. What do you mean, Ezio is '_obviously _attractive'?"

Shaun smirked.

"Are you not secure enough in your heterosexuality to comment on another man's looks?" Shaun asked snidely.

"I'll never be secure enough in my heterosexuality to call my _ancestor_ attractive." Desmond replied, putting his head in his hands. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

His asking Lucy if she found Ezio attractive was his way of asking if she thought _he _was attractive. Shaun thought _Ezio _was attractive. Ezio was Desmond's ancestor, and they looked very, _very _alike.

Shaun thought Ezio was attractive.

Desmond jumped off the bench so fast and so suddenly, that Shaun, who had slid to the end to make room, ended up in a pile of snow that ended up all over his probably very expensive black trench coat.

"What the _fuck_, Desmond?" Shaun shouted as Desmond sprinted out of the courtyard and away from him and the warehouse.

For a few moments, Shaun sat, stunned. Desmond was one fucked up guy- that was for sure.

And then he realized he'd have to go searching for the runaway assassin.

Shaun could only hope he'd be dumb enough to buy another motorcycle.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! This is googleit6 talking. I'm so so so sorry this took so long to get out, and I have to tell you… it's not done. I flew solo this chapter, with **_**brilliantmemories **_**caught up with life and all, so I hope it's okay! The updates will most likely be spaced out pretty far from now on, and I can only apologize so sincerely over the internet :\. Hopefully you guys haven't given up on us, and hopefully this will pick up steam sometime in the near future, and **_**hopefully, **_**you enjoyed this chapter! See you soon! (**_**Hopefully**_**)**

**So that ^ was my author's note first time around. I'll just leave it at that, although I wish I had ripped more on _brilliantmemories _in it, but, hey. Such is life. Hope you enjoyed! By the way, it's not beta'd, as I'm sure you've noticed if you're already reading this. Once again, I apologize !**


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N**_: Okay get guys, it's brilliantmemories here. Googleit6 is already asleep, considering we have a four time difference between us. So, I finally got my ass around to writing my bit. I think... things have taken an interesting turn. I've beaten Brotherhood so I know for sure that the Modern Assassin's take in Italy. Though... I guess before we started writing this, we were believed it was in New York City. Huh, anyways, hopefully I can try and get googleit6 to get a few pointers from me about locations, since she can't play the game until Christmas. The end was a complete mind fuck though.

PS: I wrote the first bit, she wrote the second. Enjoy!

Also, just to clear something up, someone said something earlier about the title, Plug in Baby. It's nothing to be taken seriously, it's just a title I made spur of the moment as a joke. Plug in Baby by Muse. Baby = the Animus. Desmond gets plugged in? Har har har, I'm just so funny.

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

The streets weren't busy at all, but eerily empty. People were trickling into taxis and trying to get home so they could meet their family for dinner. Shaun, instead of having dinner, was out in the freezing cold, searching for the pain in the ass assassin, Desmond.

_Really, how old is this guy?_ Shaun asked himself, sighing as he pulled his trench coat around himself tighter, as he could see his breath in front of him. Trudging through the freshly fallen snow, Shaun tried to pick up his pace as the thought of losing Desmond began to run through his mind frantically. _What if a Templar caught him? What if Vidic was back at the warehouse, taking Lucy and Rebecca hostage? Or even worse, killing them? _

With a scowl, Shaun turned a corner, yelling Desmond's name as loud as he could.

"Desmond, you twat! Where are you? Desmond!" He called out for the assassin, hoping the idiot would respond to his simple commands. The snowflakes began to fall thickly, quickly becoming relatable to a winter desert. Then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something among the rooftops of the shops across the street. Focusing his gaze, he saw as another blur of white jumped on the roofs, trying to decide on which way to go. Finally, Shaun growled under his breath and began to cross the street, making sure he wasn't hit- that could have been quite unfortunate. There was no sense in slowing down their operation now – they had to decipher that shit ton of information they had received from their last run through – who was Minerva? What were these people called Those Who Came Before? These... Gods? With the message to Ezio, it put an urgency stamp on everything they did. Every single move counted and if they screwed up, recovering from the booboo wouldn't be as simple as it been before.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, Shaun dipped into an alleyway and looked around, finding he had walked right into a tight space. It reminded him of when Desmond had run away from him, the bastard. But that couldn't have been Desmond – he was a twat, but he wasn't clueless enough to completely stray from another Assassin, even if he didn't like Shaun that much. Plus, he had been too eager to get away from Shaun back at the warehouse; like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, it all seemed too suspicious.

"Desmond?" Shaun called out again, feeling an odd sensation of claustrophobia begin to kick in. Last time he had been in an alley like this, he had been significantly hurt and he didn't want to go through that again. What if Templars appeared at each end? Once again, Shaun hadn't prepared himself and left his gun in his drawer somewhere in his room. Oh how useful it was sitting in there. Shaun took a deep breath and continued walking when he heard fast footsteps approaching him. Within a second, he turned around, eyes wide, ready for whatever was coming for him. But no one was there. However, that's when he saw a shadow leap out in front of him then disappear again, like a by passing bird, except it had been much larger.

More human like.

"Desmond!" Shaun shouted again, as loud as he could manage. And then suddenly, everything seemed to drop into slow motion as something strange happened.

He hadn't even heard him, nevertheless seen him, until he glanced upward for a quick second to see if the shadow had disappeared. A man jumped on him, crashing all his weight onto the historian's body that had no time to brace its self. The impact felt shattering as Shaun fell backwards, his head smacking hard against the wet cement. With a small cry of pain, he was silenced as he settled on his back, body aching, a hand covering his mouth. Shaun had no strength to struggle as the hooded figure drew his fist back, ready to strike. All sense of awareness evaporated as a fist collided with his jaw, causing a muffled shout of pain.

"How do you know who this Desmond is?" The voice shouted and Shaun immediately recognized who it was; then all his strength came back to him. With a hard, powerful shove, Shaun managed to fling Desmond off him and into the alleyway. Immediately he followed up and grabbed the front of Desmond's hoodie, smashing him into the wall. Quickly, Shaun became light headed and dizzy, leading him to conclude that he had suffered a mild concussion. Either that or he had just gotten up way too fast.

"What the bloody hell is your problem? What if you had fucking killed me? Are you turning psycho on us already, you fucking twat?" Shaun hollered, feeling a headache slam into his brain. But it only took one split second to lose his concentration for Desmond to fling him down, his body sliding roughly against the hard concrete ground. With a grunt, Shaun looked at him, shivering as he could feel the snow melting through his trousers.

"_Who are you?"_ Desmond shouted and slapped his hand against his waist, as if he were trying to grab a sword that just wasn't there.

"Alright, obviously you're a little out of things, Desmond," Shaun laughed nervously, feeling a sore ache creep over his body. Since when had Desmond become such a strong fighter?

"Why are you calling me Desmond? I'm Ezio!" Shaun watched in wonder as Desmond, for once split moment, held an expression completely similar to Ezio's when he was frightened. A thought crossed Shaun's mind but he merely shrugged it off, trying to get back to his feet. But as he managed to get on his knees, Desmond's own knee collided with the bottom of his chin and he flew back, smacking his head against the hard, ice cold ground once again. Limbs sprawled out, Shaun felt fatigue combating his alertness; this moment with Desmond would pass – soon he would be his normal self again. Carefully raising his head, he looked at Desmond, who was looking around worriedly, as if a set of guards might patrol the streets at night like they had in the 15th century. These bleeds were to last thirty seconds and even then, they weren't full on hallucinations. How long had it been? A minute? Two?

"Desmond... You're in the 21st century, relax. It's okay, there's no Templars looking for us, your fellow Assassins are back at-"

"Assassins?" This caught Desmond's attention quickly. "You are an Assassin?"

"Haha, I find it amusing that you're so shocked, Desmond. Yes, I am an Assassin," Shaun slowly took off his jacket, then proceeded to roll up his shoulder. He had hated getting the tattoo done – it felt tacky and it hurt after the first while, but he needed it – just like the rest of the Assassin's did. Best to have it on the shoulder, somewhere it could be hidden easily. "And if I observed correctly, yours..." Shaun stepped closer to Desmond, quickly invading his personal space and he felt the man's body tense up. It got even worse when Shaun slowly began to push Desmond's left sleeve up, revealing his tribal tattoos. "Somewhere in this mess... Ah, here." He pointed to a small, intricate design in which, the symbol of the Assassins was hidden but revealed to the eye of one belonging to the Brotherhood. Much to Shaun's surprise, he began to thumb the tattoo, finding his mind go astray as he retrieved a memory he had repressed.

Meeting his first Assassin, a young man whose name he couldn't recall. Betrayed... A double agent that had nearly compromised Shaun's plans to reveal Abstergo for what they really were. That had been ten years ago. Without another thought, Shaun quickly filed away the memory, unable to rid of it at all.

When he became too focused on the tattoo, he was jerked back to reality when Desmond pulled his hand back, a bit too quick for Shaun's liking. "Desmond?" He tried again.

"I am Ezio Auditore, I must speak to Mario. Or Leonardo. Where are they?" Shaun watched as Desmond scanned the alley, still confused at his whereabouts.

"Perhaps I should take you back to the stronghold-" Shaun began when he was abruptly cut off.

"No! I must find my fellow Assassins!" He growled furiously and turned his back on Shaun before scaling the building right beside him. For a moment, Shaun didn't believe what he was seeing. Desmond was moving at such a fast pace – the pace of a skilled free runner, not that of a beginner or moderate level. No, he was moving like Ezio was, his fingers nimble and rapid on grabbing the next ledge and pulling himself up. Shaun wasn't sure if this was Desmond at all. But in fear of losing him again, Shaun jumped up at the wall, following the man as he body pleaded with him to drop and rest, like a sane human being. But Shaun couldn't – he had to stop Desmond or... Ezio- Whoever he was, Lucy would absolutely kill him if the assassin got killed or even worse, _lost_. Shaun couldn't even contemplate the damage Abstergo would deal him, because he was far too valuable to throw out just yet. Shaun hurried his pace as he watched Ezio climb over the ledge and onto the roof. Soon enough, Shaun was on the roof, watching as Ezio jumped across a roof top, his speed not faltering in the slightest. Shaun took a deep breath and took his jump of faith, praying that he wouldn't plummet to his death below him.

Instead, his feet landed safely on solid ground and he looked up to see Ezio was two buildings ahead. Was Shaun really that rusty?

"Wait!" Shaun shouted and tried to keep his running steady but he was finding it hard. With the lack of sleep and mundane tasks he did on a daily basis, it was hard to concentrate- To keep one foot ahead of the other. He felt absolutely lost in controlling his body and as he went to jump for the next roof, he couldn't put all his effort and strength into it. "_Ezio!_" He called out, his arms reaching out for the ledge that he calculated he wasn't going to land past. With a loud grunt and a hard collision with the wall, Shaun barely managed to grab the ledge, and he felt as if his arm sockets were going to be yanked out. This is how Ezio must have felt at the beginning. It was as if the air was knocked out of him as he struggled to hold onto the frozen solid ledge, trying to kick his feet against the wall to haul himself up. But he was exhausted, sore and still recovering from earlier. Shaun stole a quick glance at the ground and ran a scenario through his head.

If he fell, yes, he would certainly die.

He wanted nothing more than to scream for Ezio to come back, but he would remain dignified and try to help himself up. But slowly, he knew he was losing grip and that any moment now, his fingers would let go and Desmond would have some major explaining to do to Lucy and Rebecca. Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed onto his.

"Give me your other hand!" Ezio yelled and Shaun did so without reluctance and soon found it grasped tightly. "Now!" Shaun gasped as Ezio pulled him up, and he felt the tension and agony in his shoulders as he was rescued. But within a second, the pain was over and replaced with a firm warmth. Shaun opened his eyes to see that he was on top of Desmond, not exactly in a suggestive pose but exactly enough to feel how warm he actually was, despite wearing just a hoodie.

"You saved me," Shaun said blankly, staring at Ezio who was looking right on back at the man on top of him.

* * *

"…It would appear I did." Ezio seemed just as surprised as Shaun was.

"Why?" Shaun was too exhausted and shocked to formulate a more complex sentence.

Ezio opened his mouth, and then closed it.

"I don't know…" His eyes were uneasy, darting sporadically around.

"Well…" Shaun wasn't used to saying "thank you", even to people who save him from a date with gravity and reservations with the cement, but he figured he could choke it out this one time, considering that Ezio was almost as lethal as a three story drop, and probably even quicker than one. "Thank you. I guess."

Ezio regained his trademark cheeky expression as Shaun's apology reached his ears.

"Don't think that action will go unrewarded. It would appear that you have the answers I have been searching for." Ezio surveyed Shaun as if he had the answer written on bits of scrap paper in his pockets.

Shaun felt himself grimace, getting the feeling that Ezio would be the one getting all the answers, and his questions would still be hanging in the air like a helium balloon that's almost given up hope. After all, Ezio could snap Shaun's neck at any given moment- he's seen him do it to tons of guards in the Animus, and he sure as hell wasn't any different- and Shaun could type one hundred twenty words a minute. Unless he threw the keyboard at Ezio, he wasn't going to be out-threatening him anytime soon.

"There's a safe place where we can- Are you okay?" Shaun looked down to see Ezio, wide eyed, staring at him. His face was bright red, and he seemed to have just realized he was in what some would call a "compromising" position. Quick as Shaun could think of a reason to call Desmond a twat, Ezio had shoved him off, almost sending him flying back over the edge of the building again. Shaun, who wasn't ready to relive that experience quite so soon, managed to stop himself right before the edge, forcing a strange, matrix-like move out of his body. If he hadn't been the professional historian/assassin that he was, Shaun would have let himself revel in the fact that that was one of the coolest moves he had ever done.

"What the hell, Ez-Des… Ezio!" Shaun choked on the subject of his sentence, unsure of what to call the man who looked like Desmond, but spoke and seemed to think like Ezio. (Though, to be fair, Ezio and Desmond could have passed as brothers if you could overlook the fact that one was the great-great-something-son of the other.) But hearing an Italian accent being spoken out of Desmond's trademark white hoodie threw Shaun through a loop. He didn't have time to contemplate the seriousness of it, as he and Ezio, or Desmond, or whoever the hell he was, had to get back to the stronghold.

Ezio's face had returned to its original color, but he was still extremely wary.

"I…uh…" Ezio scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, searching for words.

Shaun was going to say something snarky when two thoughts entered his mind. Firstly, Ezio probably still wasn't opposed to snapping his neck. Secondly, and much more importantly, Shaun just realized how awkward the positions they were just in must have seemed to Ezio, a ladies man from the fifteenth century, whose closest contact with a man had probably been the hugs he received from Leonardo- and even those were considered out of the ordinary. Shaun had always figured Ezio had put up with them only because he liked Leonardo so much. (And Leonardo was the one who kept his hidden blade and whole arsenal in such good shape.)

Shaun felt his face heat up, realizing the impression Ezio got, and now was more sure than ever that he wouldn't make it back to the stronghold without a slit throat. As soon as Ezio saw Shaun's expression, he felt himself flushing again, and soon enough there was enough heat between them to pop a bag of popcorn.

Both men stood still for a moment, embarrassment radiating from them like UV rays from a tanning booth. Their stances were mirror images of each other: both Shaun and Ezio stood with their feet shoulder width apart, fists clenched by their sides, and looking off to the side like there was a particularly interesting speck of dirt that suddenly caught their eye.

Eventually, Shaun managed to shove the very pink, very gay elephant in the room aside, and tell Ezio to follow him back to the stronghold.

"Why should I follow you?" Ezio frowned, looking like he'd much rather be jumping between buildings like a great, overgrown frog rather than follow a man who he just had an unexpectedly intimate moment with.

Shaun sighed, trying to keep the condescending tone out of his voice. He was probably witnessing one of the most interesting scientific anomalies of this generation, and he was already annoyed. He wasn't sure whether that said more about him or about Ezio.

"You should follow because I have your _answers_, remember?" Okay, maybe he didn't _really _have a lot of answers, but he certainly had enough to keep Ezio placated… for now. Once Ezio realized that Shaun really knew about as much as he did, Shaun figured they would have some extremely quick thinking to do, but he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. There were more pressing matters at hand- like getting Ezio to not take off again, and figuring out what the _hell _was going on, and if Desmond would ever make another appearance, or was lost somewhere forever roaming in the grey matter of Ezio's mind.

Ezio considered Shaun's reason briefly, before nodding.

"Very well. Though be warned, I won't hesitate to attack you if I see anything suspicious. I'm only giving you warning because I really need those answers."

Shaun grimaced.

"I doubt you could outrun my gun…" He mumbled, before mustering up an almost convincing smile for Ezio. "Let's get back to the stronghold. If it makes you feel better, you can walk behind me or in front. Just make sure to keep up."

Ezio snorted. "I think I will be okay."

Shaun shook his head, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. If he wasn't so sore and exhausted, he would have taken Ezio up on the obvious challenge, even though he was guaranteed to lose. No matter how much he complained and soliloquized about how much his life sucked all night, it was rather liberating to be out in the fresh air for a prolonged amount of time- not that he would _ever _credit Desmond with something even remotely relating to his enjoyment. No, this was something he would keep to himself. No one needed to know that Desmond had given him exactly what he needed tonight.

"Let's go," Shaun said, making his way to the ladder of the roof, and climbing down with a groan.

"What is wrong?" Ezio asked, waiting for Shaun at the bottom of the ladder.

"GAH!" Shaun shouted, dropping the last few rungs and landing with gritted teeth. "How the hell did you get down there?"

Ezio smirked.

"It is like magic, no?"

Shaun rolled his eyes.

"Let's get a move on, Houdini."

"What's a Houdini?"

An hour and an almost near death experience later that involved a bus, a time travelling assassin, and an ignored stop sign, Shaun and Ezio stumbled into the warehouse, their boots squelching like offended ducks.

"Stay quiet," Shaun warned, realizing just now that he had never formulated a plan for dealing with Lucy and Rebecca.

"Right." Ezio mumbled, transfixed by the massive stacks of boxes in front of him shrouded in shadow that screamed "climb me" like a woman wearing fishnet stockings on a street corner screamed… something very similar to that, with a "pay me" thrown in for good measure.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Shaun snapped his fingers in Ezio's face, successfully getting his attention. "We've got to think of a plan."

Suddenly, Shaun found himself flying through the air, and coming to a crushing stop against one of the stacks of boxes. Ezio had grabbed onto his lapels, and was glaring at him, the heat from his eyes melting the snow in Shaun's hair.

"Do not do that. I startle easily." Ezio dusted Shaun off a little harder than necessary, rattling his teeth in his mouth as he did so. "There. Good as new."

Shaun sighed. He almost missed Desmond.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So... hi. I don't know if anyone cares about this story anymore, but what the fuck, I'll post this chapter and see what the reception is. This is _googleit6_, by the way, and I wrote this whole chapter. I should probably mention right now that _brilliantmemories_ is done with the story. She was kind enough, however, to give me the password to her account so I could continue to upload at my leisure. She's not sure where she stands with the AssCreed fandom right now, so yeah, I'm on my own. I really, really, love this story, however, and would really like to continue it, because it was the one thing that I've always loved to write, no matter what. I thought the two of us came up with a fantastic idea, and I'd like to see it through to the end. If you don't like the idea of it just being me writing it, though, then feel free to ignore it forever from now on. **

**I can't really explain why I took this long to post this. I had most of it written already, and finished a little bit of it tonight, but whatever, the point is, we've got it here, now, right? So, I hope you enjoy this now solo endeavor!**

* * *

"Okay, so, our plan."

Ezio was looking at Shaun, waiting for the exasperated historian to grace him with a brilliant plan that was crafted by the exceptionally logical and calculating mind that was Shaun Hastings.

"Keep your mouth shut, and don't knock anything over."

Ezio barley stifled the snort that crept up his throat, making his cheeks puff out like a disgruntled bullfrog.

Shaun narrowed his eyes. "Well, excuse me. Why don't you come up with some genius plan, Sherlock?"

Ezio replied with a blank stare that Shaun felt like he was going to be getting a lot of- in fact, he might actually get it more often from Ezio than Desmond, which was almost a shock, but then Shaun realized that he was talking about the great-great something of Desmond, so maybe it wasn't that surprising. Maybe the "blank" gene had skipped a few generations after Ezio, and was now hitting Desmond full force.

"Who is Sherlock?"

"…Right. After your time…" Shaun sighed. "Nevermind. Look, just… Can you try and lose the accent? If we run into someone -by the way, everyone in this building is a _friend_. None of that Batman shit you pulled earlier. My neck still hurts- you… cannot talk to them in Italian, or with your accent, or be charming or anything."

Ezio looked extremely put out, and his hand hovered threateningly close to a spare piece of wood leaning against the railing.

"Whoa, slick. Hold on there. You can't be like that because… Well… Shit…" As Shaun was trying to explain this predicament, he realized how insane it really was. He was talking to _Ezio, _a man from the _Italian Renaissance_. Not exactly an everyday occurrence, even in Shaun's bizarre life.

"Why can't I?" Ezio raised an eyebrow, looking impatient.

Shaun grimaced.

"…Because… Well, to be frank, Ezio, you are in the year 2012." Shaun stopped to let that sink in, watching Ezio's hand carefully for any sign of brutal violence that might come by way of wood chip.

Ezio frowned, looking like a school boy who had just been asked a particularly difficult math question.

"That's… impossible." Ezio mumbled, his eyes wide and calculating, taking in the enormous warehouse he stood in. Shaun followed his gaze. Obviously, warehouses weren't a common thing in Renaissance Italy.

"Apparently it isn't." Shaun replied lightly, trying not to think of all the implications behind this phenomenon. He was beyond tired, and was already wishing that he had saved this conversation for another time. Although, as soon as Ezio almost became intimately aquatinted with a car's bumper, he figured that time had been running out in which he didn't have to think outside of the box.

For this occurrence, Shaun would have to extrapolate so far that he would most likely spear a sheep in New Zealand, and come to about the same conclusion. He had no idea how the hell this happened, and had even less of an idea how to explain it to Ezio.

"Let me try putting this in perspective… as skewed as it may be," Shaun felt himself stuttering and having trouble forming the words, which was something that never happened to him. He always had an explanation, always knew what he was talking about. Even the Pieces of Eden were believable. This, though. This was truly uncharted territory.

"You know of Altaïr, right?"

Ezio nodded.

"You know he was born in 1191?"

Nod.

"And you were born in 1459?"

Nod.

"Now that's a gap of… 268 years."

Nod.

"And between 2012 and 1459 is a gap of… 553 years…"

Nod- grimace.

Ezio was extremely still.

Shaun was biting the inside of his cheek, debating whether to drop another bombshell on the poor guy.

Ezio raised his eyes to Shaun's. They turned from confusion to suspicion as the two men's glances met.

"What else do you know?" Ezio asked slowly, looking like he was bracing himself for news worse than he was suddenly 553 years overdue for a splatter death from falling ten stories off St. Paul's Cathedral- the normal death of someone who leapt across buildings as his day job.

Shaun sighed.

"It's about Altaïr."

Ezio raised an eyebrow, and Shaun was sure, with just a quick adjustment of the mouth, that was the expression that had bedded more women than Shaun had ever even met.

_Whoa, boy. That's _Desmond's _face_,_ remember? … But they do look alike. Guess the good looks started way back with Altaïr, hmm? It's obviously a strong gene pool._

Shaun shook that thought- and all related images- out of his head. He needed a brain the size of Mars to deal with this, and having it cluttered up with… graphic images didn't exactly aid his concentration. Add that to the fact that he was dog tired, and his bed was starting to look like the better idea, no matter how threatening Ezio's hands may be.

_The hands that had grabbed Shaun's not too long ago, stopping him mid punch, causing the heat from his face to melt any nearby glaciers. The hands that- _"SHUT UP!"

Shaun put his hands to his temples, trying to push unsavoury thoughts aside. What was going on? Why was he dwelling on things like _hands_, when he had a body snatching time traveller right in front of him?

… _A body snatching time traveller with a nice smile… and nice hands. _

Shaun took a deep breath, and then suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone. Face redder than a sunburned tomato, he looked up.

Ezio was staring at him, hand at his hip where his sword was supposed to be.

"Look, Ezio…" Shaun was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not exactly thinking straight right now." _Damn right you aren't. Now look at those- NO!_

"We need to sleep." _Together. _"Aren't you tired?" _I'll make you tired. _

"I need answers, though!" Ezio exclaimed, his voice echoing around the warehouse.

"Shhhhh!" Shaun jumped forward, putting his hand over Ezio's mouth. "Shut up!"

For a few tense seconds, Shaun stood with Ezio's head stuck between his chest and his other hand. _Not the worst position you could be in._

"Okay," Shaun whispered as he let go -_reluctantly_- of Ezio. "We've got to be quiet or else we'll wake up-"

"Shaun? Is that you?" Lucy called from the top of the staircase, squinting over the banister, trying to make out the blurry ink blots in the darkness below.

At her voice, Ezio looked up, and took in her form in all its illuminated-by-the-hall-light glory, and smiled the smile of a hunter who had a doe set in his iron sight.

Ezio's ability to forget the fact that he was suddenly more than 500 years past his prime in the presence of an attractive woman didn't fail to astound Shaun. At Lucy's call, Ezio looked about ready to rescue the damsel in distress. The fact that there was no distress and Lucy was no damsel failed to register with Ezio, and he was about to bound up the stairs when Shaun grabbed the back of his hoodie, yanking him back with a strangled cough.

"Okay, before you snap my neck, just hear me out. That girl up there is Lucy. Under no circumstances are you allowed to use your Italian charms on her, got it? She thinks you're Desmond, the thick twit who can hardly keep up with day to day conversation. You. Need. To. Listen. To. Me. Please, don't fuck this up."

Shaun was in no mood to threaten. Begging seemed to strike a chord in Ezio, though, who, for once, was probably not the most dangerous thing in the building. Shaun thought of their arsenal of modern day guns, and realized how true that was. He could be as skilled as he wanted, but he couldn't outrun a bullet, no matter how protective Altaïr's armour was.

Talking with his eyes, Shaun told Ezio to keep his mouth shut.

"We're here, Lucy! We just need to go over a few things- we'll be right up!"

Shaun heard Lucy do a double take.

"You're going to willingly spend more time with Desmond?"

Shaun mentally kicked himself in the ass and made a note to be nicer to Desmond in the future- if Desmond ever came back, that was.

"Uh, yeah. Look, we'll be up in a minute, okay?"

Lucy either didn't notice the slight panic underlining Shaun's frustrated tone, or didn't care, because he could hear her walking back to the room without another word.

Ezio looked after her with an awestruck grin on his face.

"She is _lovely_."

Shaun rolled his eyes and completely ignored the slight twinge of something he refused to call jealousy in his stomach.

"Look, Ezio." He stared into Ezio's dark eyes, and put his hands on his shoulders, forcing him to focus. Shaun pinched the bridge of his nose, smudging his glasses in the process. "This is… this is an extremely odd situation. I'm not sure what to do, or how to act, or what to tell you."

Ezio stared at him, silent.

Shaun grimaced. He really couldn't put off telling Ezio any longer. It needed to be said.

"Ezio- you're dead."

Ezio didn't say anything.

Shaun continued, starting to babble, "I mean, technically, you're dead. Obviously you aren't _really _dead, because you're here, talking to me. But if we went looking for your tombstone, and, well, you know, _looked_, you'd be six feet under."

Ezio sat on a nearby box, his head in his hands.

"But- _Jesus_, this is amazing! You're like a living, breathing textbook! You could tell us so much! What happened to the Apple? To the Templars? You could give us real first person account! My god, the Templars won't know what hit them!" Shaun ran his hands through his hair frantically; his eyes were alight with the fire that made him pursue such a dangerous career in the first place.

"This could be the breakthrough we've been looking for! We could have the Templars by the balls with this information! Ezio, you could save the fucking world! This… this… this… this is amazing. This is life-changing stuff right here. I can't even imagine- you're from the _fifteenth bloody century_!-"

The possibility of sleep entirely forgotten in his sudden excitement, Shaun glanced down at Ezio, who hadn't moved. His head was still in his hands. He looked up, and to Shaun's horror, saw tears clinging to Ezio's eyelashes.

"I'm dead?" Ezio asked in small voice.

Shaun stared at Ezio, suddenly realizing what kind of situation he was in- Ezio needed to be _comforted_. Shaun was going to have to reassure him and make him feel better. Shaun was _terrible _at comforting people. When his baby cousin's goldfish, Goldy, had died, the best aid Shaun could muster up was, "Well… now at least the cat will have a snack."

It hadn't gone over well.

Although… Shaun had a sudden vision of hugging Ezio, rubbing his back consolingly, holding his- _whoa there, cowboy._

Shaun was awful at making people feel better. What the hell could he even say to him? Sorry you're dead?

_But you wouldn't have to say anything, Shaun, you know that. A little pat here, a little caress there, simple as th- Jesus fucking Christ, get a hold of yourself. _

Shaun was brought back to reality by a crash from upstairs, followed by a loud, "GOD DAMN IT ALL!". He assumed the Animus 2.0 had fizzled out again.

He looked down at Ezio, who hadn't even stirred at the sound.

"Look, Ezio, mate, don't worry about it. I'll figure out what's going on, okay?"

Trying his best to make it seem like a completely natural movement, Shaun sat down next to his assassin friend, and put a hand on his shoulder.

Ezio turned to look at him, the tears suddenly gone from his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing, Shaun?"

"… Desmond?"

* * *

**So... Was it okay for my first solo? Would you like me to continue it by myself or should I just stop it now? **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So this is a pretty quick update (Much quicker than it would be on a normal schedule, mind you) because I really enjoyed getting back into the swing of writing this. Though, be warned, this is kind of a filler chapter, because I just noticed that the previous chapters have all happened in the same night... Yeah, our assassins need some sleep, and I needed a way to ease them into it.**

* * *

Shaun ripped his hand off Desmond's shoulder like he'd been electrified. Already, he could feel his dislike for Desmond bubbling up in his stomach, and it was only intensified by the awkwardness of their current situation.

"Desmond! What the fuck is going on?" Shaun hissed, jumping up from Desmond's side. "What the fuck are you playing at?"

Desmond stared at him blankly.

"What?"

Shaun glared at him. Desmond seemed generally bemused by his outburst. Shaun tried to take a couple deep breaths to calm himself down.

"What do you remember about tonight, Desmond?" Shaun asked quietly, hoping to concentrate only on the facts, and ignore what he knew was disappointment coursing through his body. He had been talking to _Ezio Auditore _tonight, for a short, glorious- if stressful and confusing- time, and now the wonderful possibilities he had been envisioning were crumbling before him- what if Ezio never returned?

_But what about Desmond? _A small voice asked in the back of his head. Shaun looked down at the man sitting before him. Desmond had his face screwed up, trying to account for all his actions of the previous hours, and his expression changed from thoughtfulness to anxiety as he realised he couldn't recall anything.

"I- I can't remember anything. The last thing I know for sure is talking with you in the little courtyard beside the building."

Shaun didn't respond immediately. He was still too busy dwelling on a question that made his stomach flip uncomfortably. Was he really more worried about losing _Ezio_- a man long since dead, Shaun had to continually remind himself- than Desmond's well being? Desmond, who was a person, no matter what Shaun would always say about him being a slightly dumber species of worm. Desmond, who was probably one of the most important people in the world right now? Would he really give Desmond up, if possible, to talk to Ezio again?

"Shaun, what's going on?" Desmond asked in a small voice that immediately reminded him of Ezio confirming, just a couple minutes ago, that he was, in fact, supposed to be dead.

Shaun couldn't help feel pity for Desmond, who really had no idea what was going on, and now had blank moments in his memory to boot. He wondered if he should tell Desmond. Would he run off and tell Lucy and Rebecca? Those two were the last people Shaun wanted to know about this, as he knew it would cause a full-scale panic attack in the stronghold.

No, for now, Shaun would keep it to himself. He would try to placate Desmond as well as he could, and figure out what to do when-_if_- Ezio made another appearance.

"You're fine, Desmond." Shaun assured him, his anger from a few minutes ago completely gone, as he tried not to display what he really felt- pity, fear, excitement, pretty much the whole spectrum of emotion was tumbling around in Shaun's mind right now.

"But you just asked what I can remember, and I can't remember anything! I don't understand!"

"Relax, Desmond. It's just a fluke of the Animus. You'll be fine. Go to bed, Lucy will be worried." If Desmond found it odd that Shaun was being surprisingly kind to him, he didn't show it, as he was much too immersed in his own problems to pay attention to Shaun's split personalities. He trudged off to bed, Shaun following right behind.

As soon as they entered the stronghold however, they came face to face with Lucy, who was tapping her foot expectantly.

"So?" She asked, stopping her foot tapping momentarily.

"Desmond and I were just… discussing the events from earlier tonight." Shaun answered a beat too late.

Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Does that mean you two have come to an understanding?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so." Shaun saw Desmond throw him a questioning look out of the corner of his eye, but luckily, he had the presence of mind to keep his mouth shut.

Lucy turned her calculating gaze to Desmond, who looked much more bummed out than usual.

"Are you okay with this, Desmond?" She said softly, taking a step closer to him. She put a hand on his arm comfortingly, much like Shaun had clasped his own hand on Ezio's shoulder earlier. His stomach constricted when he realized that Lucy obviously liked Desmond. What did that say about his current stance with Desmond/Ezio? With a shake of his head, Shaun mumbled a good night and hurriedly passed the silent main room, leaving Lucy and Ezio- _er, Desmond_, his mind quickly corrected him -, to do whatever they please with the empty flat. Obviously, Rebecca was already asleep. Shaun entered his room, shut the door, and instantly headed to the shower in the bathroom that the four of them had to share. If Desmond and Lucy were going to hold each other and share problems, he wanted to put as much dry wall and noise between them as possible.

Shaun turned the water on as hot as he could, hoping it would help him work out whatever the fuck had happened tonight. It really had been quite a day. Between exciting trips to the grocery store, Abstergo agents, Desmond's abs, near death experiences, compromising positions, awkward moments, Ezio's smirks, and even meeting Desmond again, Shaun couldn't help but admit it: As much as he disliked Desmond, as much as he complained and whined about the newest addition to their team, there really was never a dull moment when Desmond was around.

Turning the shower off, Shaun stepped out of the shower and towelled off. He went through his usual night time routine, and was just doing up the last couple of buttons on his pyjamas when he heard something that made his blood run cold.

"_Ciao,__bella signora_."

A confused, but appreciative laugh followed, and then Lucy said:

"Desmond, have you been picking up the Italian from the Animus?"

_Oh, God. _

Shaun sprinted out of his room, wearing his red and white chequered pyjamas, only half buttoned up, which showed off the majority of his torso as the fabric fluttered at his sides. He looked like a salsa dancer who had escaped an institution, but still retained a shred of who he used to be.

"Desmond!" He exclaimed, trying to come up with an on-the-spot excuse to get him away from Lucy as soon as possible.

"Shaun!" Lucy scolded, obviously embarrassed that Shaun had caught her and Desmond in a reasonably intimate moment.

Shaun hadn't realized, when he burst in on them, that Lucy and Desmond had been reasonably close together, and Lucy's face was noticeably pink.

"I- sorry, Lucy, but I just realized... I remembered something and I need to talk to Desmond, right now. It's important," Shaun begged, now trying to look at anything but Lucy's pink cheeks.

He heard Lucy sigh.

"Okay, whatever, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Desmond." She smiled up at Desmond, who was currently shooting daggers at Shaun, and nodded curtly at Shaun as she passed him and entered the room that she and Rebecca shared.

As soon as the door closed, Shaun was right in Desmond's face.

"What the _fu- Oof!_" Before Shaun could finish scream-whispering at Desmond, he had been kneed in the stomach and pinned to floor. "I told you… not to… talk… to Lucy!" He gasped, trying to regulate his oxygen floor as quickly as possible.

"She is a beautiful lady, Assassin. I refuse to ignore her, especially if she has asked me a question and expects a response."

Shaun groaned.

"It's _Lucy_. She's hardly a lady, anyways. That girl has done things you wouldn't believe."

Ezio glared at Shaun.

"Watch your mouth, Assassin."

Shaun was about to pursue the subject, when he realized it was a lost cause. He had definitely seen enough evidence in the Animus to prove that Ezio loved the ladies like Shaun himself loved his work. (_And Desmond's abs?)_

"What's wrong?" Ezio asked, staring at Shaun's expression.

Shaun spluttered, for as soon as his favourite interfering sex drive kicked in, his face had turned hot enough to cook on, and his eyes bulged as he choked on the air he had just sucked in.

"N-nothing." He coughed, as Ezio started to thump him on the back, attempting to help his coughing fit.

Eventually, the invisible blockage in Shaun's throat cleared itself, and he could speak properly again, even though his eyes were rather red.

"Look, Ezio, you should probably sleep." Shaun gestured towards the bed in the main room that Desmond usually slept on.

Ezio glanced at the bed, then back at Shaun. His face suddenly crumpled, as though he just remembered what century he was in, and what century he was supposed to be in.

"I still don't understand anything that's going on. And… there are these blank spots in my memory. The last thing I remember is being in a large, gray room filled with boxes, almost to the ceiling!"

Shaun felt his eyes widen, Desmond's American accent ringing in his ears.

_"I can't remember anything! I don't understand!"_

"Ezio…" Shaun started to say, but was stopped abruptly when Ezio appeared right in front of him, grasping his shoulders.

"Please, tell me you can explain this." He begged, shaking Shaun slightly as he spoke.

Shaun scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Okay, how about I try to explain things tomorrow morning, okay?" _Assuming you're still around, of course. _"Sleep now and we'll discuss it tomorrow."

Ezio looked like the last thing he wanted to do was be left alone, but Shaun didn't give him much of a choice as he made his way back to his own room.

"Oh, and Ezio?" Shaun said, as he reached the doorway to his room.

Ezio looked up.

"Don't touch anything, okay? The last thing we need is you to get stuck inside the Animus or something, and keep reliving your own memories, trapped in some sort of quantum black hole of continuity. Good night!"

And with that, Shaun closed his door, leaving Ezio more confused than he had been all day.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hi! So... Yeah, here's an update. I really am a rambler, but I assure you, all this seemingly stupid character shit will factor in later in the story. It's really important that everyone forges a relationship with each other, whether it be good or bad. I'm not saying why, but trust me, it is important. I should also mention that, eventually, this story will take a tour through srsbizness territory. (Probably for the second half, though I haven't quite decided yet.) Morals and ethics and all that terrible stuff will also be called into the room. **

**I dunno why I'm warning you, but I feel like it's due, because so far, the story's been pretty fluffy. **

**Oh, and yes... the rating will go up. Eventually. (But we must focus first on _relationships. Relationships!_)**

**This is chapter 10 by the way, for those who like to keep count. **

* * *

Shaun was awoken many hours earlier than he was expecting by what sounded like an electrical storm coming from the main room. The light that was filtering under his closed door flickered, then went out.

"Er, Rebecca?" Shaun called, as the smell of burnt plastic entered the room. "… Are you dead? Cause if you are, we're kind of screwed."

"Thank you for your concern, once again, of my well-being, Shaun. I am alive and well."

Shaun didn't answer, but rolled over to check the time- and then realized that his alarm clock had stopped working. Shaun grimaced. No work for him or Lucy, today, at least until Rebecca fixed whatever just blew up. It was a good thing this warehouse ran on an individual grid, or else the whole block might have just blacked out- not exactly the most inconspicuous thing that could happen when you're supposedly incognito.

"Shaun!" It sounded like Rebecca had just kicked his door. He heard a thump in the main room that he assumed was Desmond falling out of bed due to Rebecca's sudden outburst. "Get up! I need you to go get something!"

Shaun groaned.

"Go get it yourself!" He rolled back over, sticking his face in his pillow. Rebecca wasn't the one who just spent almost a full day confronted with an assassin from almost 500 years ago occupying Desmond's body at the most inconvenient times.

_Maybe it was just an elaborate dream. An extremely vivid, sensory overload, crazy, insane, fucked up dream. _

Then Shaun touched his still-swollen nose and gave an agitated sigh. Okay, so it wasn't a dream. Maybe it was just a fluke of the Animus. God knows they'd had enough of those to last them a lifetime and a half.

_Wouldn't that disappoint you, _smirked his brain.

_Oh? And why is that?_ Shaun asked himself.

_Oh, no reason, except… historic anomaly, charming, smart, fit, talented, handsome-_

_Whoa whoa whoa._ Shaun stopped his train of thought right there.

_Afraid to admit it, big boy? _His brain taunted himself.

Shaun felt his face twitch.

_We are one and the same, brain,_ he informed himself. _We should be working together, not against each other._

_Oh, Shaun-y Shaun. _His brain cooed. _You and your brain have never been on the same page. You ignore _that_ side of yourself all too often, you know._

Shaun gritted his teeth.

_Look, brain, you listen to me, and me only. Leave it alone. We have work to do_. Shaun pinched the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous.

_Always work, _his brain complained. _Work, work, work._

But at least it finally shut up.

Unfortunately, Rebecca hadn't taken the same cue as his brain, and was determined to wake him up by knocking progressively louder on his bedroom door. At least Shaun knew she wouldn't come in- they had had too many awkward moments with opening doors when no advance notice was given, even though Rebecca would never admit it; neither would Shaun, for that matter- it was like walking in on your grandparents. Some things are just too awkward to talk about.

"I swear to God, Shaun, if you don't get out here in two seconds, I'll hook your balls up to the Animus when you're asleep and we'll all laugh at your remarkably short sexual history."

Grimacing, Shaun forced himself out of bed, only because he knew Rebecca would follow up on her offer if given the chance- Shaun was a very heavy sleeper. He dressed quickly in the dark, and met Rebecca in the main room. He could hardly see anything, considering it was still dark out.

"Dear lord, Rebecca, you have the weirdest sleep patterns I've ever seen." Shaun yawned.

"Just because you have the internal clock of a teenager doesn't mean I'm weird," Rebecca retorted. "Honestly, if Lucy and I let you sleep as much you wanted, you'd sleep till 2pm every day."

Shaun rolled his eyes.

"What do you need?"

"I need you to go get me some more fuses. These ones are shot."

Shaun groaned, and knew that he sounded exactly like the teenager Rebecca had just accused him of being.

"I just went out yesterday and almost _died_, thank you very much. Do I not deserve a rest?"

Rebecca put her finger to her chin in mock though.

"Well, gee, Shaun, I dunno. I almost electrocuted myself this morning. Do you think I deserve a rest? Can I just take time off because I almost died? I mean, it's not like what we're doing here is _life or death _or anything. It's not like the fate of the world might possibly rest in our hands. Yeah, sure, why don't you take a break? I'm sure the rest of us will appreciate sitting here like wooden ducks waiting for Abstergo to slice off our asses and stick them up as trophies or something. Take as long as you want, Shaun. No hurry."

Shaun was quiet for a moment, then replied,

"But it's so early! The store won't even be open yet!"

Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"Desmond's going with you. You need to wait for him."

Shaun felt himself go red.

"Why the hell would you wake me up _now _if I've just got to wait for Desmond?"

Rebecca smirked.

"You were snoring."

* * *

"Desmond!" Shaun barked, hammering on the bathroom door. "Let's go! We should get there as soon as the store opens!"

He heard a muffled voice on the other side of the door that sounded vaguely like, "fuck you".

"Ugh." Shaun threw himself into his chair and played with his stapler- it was times like these that made him miss Minesweeper.

Shaun saw Lucy enter the room from the warehouse below. He raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing down there?"

Lucy sighed and plopped down into her own computer chair, looking at a loss for things to do.

"I was practising."

Shaun smirked.

"Practising what? Kissing Desmond?"

"_Shaun!_" Lucy glared at him, but couldn't hide the fact that her fact had gone slightly pink. "For your information, I was practising my free running. Based on what happened yesterday, and your inability to climb buildings, maybe you should follow suit."

Shaun glared back at her, his own face going red.

"I was panicking, what did you except?"

"Panicking? What the hell do you expect to be doing in any other circumstance? Of course you were panicking!"

Shaun refused to acknowledge that Lucy had a point, merely grunted and bounced a stress ball off the wall.

The sound of a door opening gave Shaun an excuse to look around. Desmond had emerged from the bathroom in Shaun's room in only a towel, his naked torso still wet from the shower. He immediately felt himself flush, and busied himself with his stapler again, but not soon enough to ignore the fact that Lucy's embarrassed face had mirrored his own. The only one who hadn't noticed anything was Rebecca, who had her head stuck in the Animus' underbelly.

"Sorry," Desmond muttered, "I forgot to bring a change of clothes."

Shaun felt the separate part of his brain acting up again as it drew his eyes back to Desmond against his will. Desmond reached down to pick up his clothes off his bed, and turned around to see Shaun staring at him. Luckily, Shaun had managed to banish the flush from his face.

"What?" He asked.

Shaun coughed and averted his eyes.

"I- nothing. Can you hurry up, please?"

Desmond shrugged and returned to the bathroom, emerging a couple minutes later, dressed and ready to go.

"Lucy, why do I have to go with Shaun again?" Desmond complained, sounding exactly like Shaun had when he asked Rebecca the same question. Shaun couldn't help but smile.

"Well…" Lucy looked slightly confused. "You guys seemed to be getting alone reasonably well yesterday. I mean, you hung out in the warehouse for long enough once you two got back last night."

"…What are you talking about? Shaun and I were only in the warehouse for a minute…"

Lucy looked concerned.

"No, Desmond. You guys were down there for at least twenty minutes. I assumed you were fighting or bonding, and since neither of you came back with any other injuries, I assumed the latter."

Shaun suddenly clued in as to why Desmond couldn't recall their time in the warehouse- he had spent most of that time with Ezio.

"Uh, Desmond, we really have to get going. Come on!" Shaun grabbed Desmond's arm and pulled him out of the apartment before he could concern Lucy even further.

* * *

**End note: Yeah, I know Shaun and Desmond already went to the store together, but remember, _RELATIONSHIPS!_**

**_... _Yeah, I'll stop my demented honking now. **

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Oh, and yes, there is a linebreak about halfway through, but it's all still me writing. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Shit's getting weird. (And exposition-y) That's all I'm going to say.**

* * *

Shaun knew he wasn't going to get very far until Desmond started questioning him about what Lucy said, and he was right- they were halfway down the hall when Desmond started hissing in his ear like an angry goose.

"_Desmond_! Would you kindly shut up for two minutes? At least until we're out of ear shot?"

Desmond walked ahead of Shaun, stopping at the overlook to the warehouse. He put a hand out to stop the historian.

"Tell me what's going on. Is it more stuff to do with the Animus messing up? Why does Lucy think we were in the warehouse for so long?" Desmond paused for a moment, as if deciding to add something. "And why does everyone in my dreams speak Italian? Is it just the Bleeding Effect?"

Shaun stopped short.

"You've been dreaming in Italian? For how long?"

Desmond shrugged.

"I don't know. A couple of days?"

"… Do you understand what they're saying?" Shaun asked quietly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

"What, in my dreams?" Desmond thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess. Sometimes… Most of the time."

Shaun started walking again, feeling panic rising in his chest. It shouldn't surprise him that Desmond was dreaming in Italian, considering the unconscious mind was much more susceptible to the Bleeding Effect than the conscious one. Add that to the fact the Desmond had just spent a full day experiencing the most pronounced and fast-acting Bleeding Effect he had ever seen or read about, and it really should have been the most unsurprising thing to learn. However, this revelation seemed to confirm Shaun's worst fears.

As they reached the warehouse floor, Shaun put out a hand to stop Desmond this time, who had been jogging to keep up with him. Shaun hadn't realized how fast he'd been moving.

"Sit down." He said brusquely. Desmond perched himself on the edge of a box warily.

"Are you going to fill me in properly now?"

Shaun pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes. I guess I don't really have a choice anymore, because if I'm right- and I'm usually right- then you'll be experiencing a lot more blackouts at an increasing rate over the next couple of weeks." Shaun started running his hands through his hair, walking in a small circle in front of Desmond. "But first, I need a promise from you. This is very important, Desmond. You cannot tell Lucy or Rebecca what I'm about to tell you. Nothing. Do I have your word?"

Shaun was staring down at Desmond intently, who swallowed hard before nodding.

"Okay. You have my word."

"I know you and Lucy have something going on. Are you sure you aren't going to tell-"

"I _won't _say anything." Desmond interrupted, looking slightly insulted that Shaun would even have to question his word.

Grimacing, Shaun nodded and took a deep breath.

"Okay then. First, we'll start off with the Bleeding Effect. At Abstergo, you used Eagle Vision to see Subject Sixteen's message written on the floor and walls. You can still use Eagle Vision at any time. From what Lucy has told me, being able to retain the Eagle Vision skill is half from the Bleeding Effect and half from reliving it in the Animus. Being in the Animus sort of kick started what you already had stored in your DNA, except now you don't have to be trained to use it. That's simple enough, I suppose. But then once we got here, to the safe house, you had another vision that involved Altaïr. You followed him to a meeting with Maria, and saw the consummation of your ancestor. It didn't last longer than thirty seconds, but it worried Lucy, even though she didn't tell you at the time. That's when the dreams in Italian started, I assume?"

Desmond nodded.

"Fast forward to yesterday, right after you got out of the Animus. You thought you had an arrow in your shoulder. Obviously, you didn't, but Ezio did. You spoke Italian. Then we sparred, and you hit me. _Really _hard. Harder than I know you're capable of. Then, yesterday in the alley"- Shaun broke off for a moment to glare accusingly at Desmond, even though he knew there was nothing he could've done to prevent it- "you left me to defend myself. I thought you just legged it because you were scared, but, ah, there was a little more to it than that. Next, you and I were talking out in the courtyard, and then you ran away- _again._" Shaun informed him flatly, watching with a dull satisfaction as Desmond looked more and more baffled. "I searched for you, and finally found you. You weren't exactly in your proper frame of mind, and at first I thought you were joking, but then…" Shaun trailed off, feeling his face go red. "You saved my life."

Shaun almost heard Desmond's gloating smile, even though he had his back to him.

"_I _saved _your _life? How do I not remember that? Oh, man, Shaun. I leave you for dead in an alley and save your life later the same day. We are so even. This is excellent. Ha! This is-"

"This isn't a joke!" Shaun hissed, spinning around to face Desmond. He put both hands on either side of Desmond's face and forced him look at him. "You can't even remember saving my life, doesn't that matter to you? You can't remember leaving me for dead in an alley or any of the other stuff you did that I haven't even mentioned! This is serious!" Shaun let go of Desmond more roughly than he needed to and straightened up. The amusement quickly drained out of Desmond's expression and returned to one of attention. He didn't say anything, but just stared at Shaun, waiting for him to start again.

Shaun took a deep breath and continued.

"Now that we're listening again… The only reason you needed to save my life in the first place was because I was chasing after you, trying to keep you from killing yourself. Anyways, the next thing you remember is sitting in the warehouse. Well I can guarantee that we were down here as long as Lucy said, but you only remember a couple minutes of it. Next, after we came up from the warehouse, I'm sure you remember chatting Lucy up, hm? Well, that didn't last too long. After that little fiasco, I went to bed, and now here we are."

Desmond continued to look at him expectantly.

"So… I just stated all the facts, Desmond. This is where we dive into guesswork. I mean, there can only be so many explanations for this… Anyways, we need to go back to when you experienced your hallucination of Altaïr and Maria. You stepped into your ancestor's memories without the help of the Animus. Well, to put it simply, this is what's happening to you, except in reverse. These periods in your memory that go blank are because someone else is using you, and making their own memories with your body."

Desmond was silent for a moment.

"You're saying that I'm being possessed by my ancestors?" He asked flatly, disbelief etched in his every syllable.

"I told you it was guesswork, but it makes sense!" Shaun exclaimed, suddenly defensive of his theory. He had to admit, it sounded really dumb when Desmond said it like that. "Besides, what other explanation is there?"

"Oh, I don't know, how about a logical one?" Desmond returned, who was now red in the face.

Shaun pressed his palms against his eyes, revelling in the blackness so he wouldn't have to look at Desmond.

"You called yourself Ezio." He muttered through his hands.

He heard the box under Desmond move as he shifted.

"Lucy said the Animus can mess with your brain." Desmond said quietly. "That's probably all it is."

"'_That's probably all it is.'" _Shaun mimicked in disbelief. "Are you insane? I don't know if you understand basic human biology, Desmond, but if something is wrong with your brain, that is very, very bad. If something is literally getting inside your brain and rendering you incapable of remembering where you are, what you did, or _who _you are for long periods of time, that is a little more than a minor inconvenience. Especially if that something getting inside your brain is a some_one_."

"The Animus is definitely messing with your brain, Desmond, and that is most certainly not something to be taken lightly. You told me you were scared, and now that I'm telling you what I think is the problem, you're just refusing to believe it."

"I refuse to believe it because it's ridiculous!" Desmond answered, his face visibly heating up again.

"What the hell do you think it is, then, Dr. Miles? Have you been hiding a medical degree up your ass this whole time? A degree in DNA recovery? No? Then shut it."

"Lucy said-"

"Yeah! I bet Lucy said a lot of things!" Shaun shouted, throwing his arms in the air. "Lucy says lots of great things like, 'let's work as a team' and 'we've got to stick together', but what does that help when something like _this,"- _he gestured wildly at Desmond-" is going on?

"Look," Shaun muttered, lowering his voice, looking anxiously at the balcony as if expecting to see Lucy listening to their every word, "Lucy would freak out if she knew this. I don't want her knowing because I don't think there's anything she can do. This is something we've just got to work out on our own. Lucy and Rebecca have their own duties to complete." Shaun laughed hollowly. "At least you won't need to go back in the Animus for a while since Rebecca really seems to have outdone herself in the 'cocking-it-up' department."

Desmond shook his head as if waking up from a dream.

"This is crazy," He mumbled. "Absolutely insane. People's bodies don't get hijacked by their own dead relatives."

"The Bleeding Effect is different for everyone. I guess for you it's just a little more… morbid." Shaun grimaced. "It kind of makes you think about technology in general, doesn't it? If stuff like this can happen, who knows what else goes on out there? It's hard to imagine how far we've come since the days of Altaïr and Ezio."

Desmond sighed, looking extremely confused and put out.

"But they're _dead_!" He exclaimed suddenly, jumping up. "How can they use me? They're gone! They both died over five hundred years ago! They can't come through the Animus and just take over!" Desmond started to pace on a separate orbit to Shaun, who was thinking hard.

"I don't think… it's exactly _them_." He finally concluded after a couple minute's nervous pacing on the part of both parties. "Again, this is just guesswork, but I would assume that the Animus has picked up enough of a personality to transfer back into you through the memories, and then they grab hold of your mind and body and…" He groaned. "Sci-fi it up." He finished lamely.

Desmond stopped pacing.

"That doesn't make me feel much better. They're still dead guys using my brain and body to do whatever they want. I can't even… Christ, you think you'd remember something like that- being pushed out of your own mind."

"That's the other thing. I don't think you're entirely gone when this happens. I have a feeling you just get shunted off to the side, y'know? You don't leave your mind, but you can't participate in its activities either." Shaun hadn't actually thought any of this through before talking to Desmond, but the more he talked, the more it made sense- and yet, at the same time, it seemed to make less sense as he went on.

Desmond sighed.

"Can we just go to the damn store? I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't think my brain can handle much more of this. And please, if I somehow change on the way there, don't let me climb a fucking apartment building or something. That's the last thing I need- be forty stories up and _then _get my own mind back."

* * *

**That was my attempt at explaining what the fuck is going on.  
I don't really know what else to say except that I don't watch a lot of sci-fi. (As if that's an excuse.)**

**I'm sure that's pretty obvious from my explanations, though. **


End file.
